Love You Like A Sister II - New Life
by TheLyricsAreMyStory
Summary: Set in the 1990's, sequel to Love You Like A Sister; Carla and Michelle are recovering from the events of a few months before. Whilst Michelle feels out of her depth with someone, Carla is feeling too comfortable with another. Can the girls tackle the struggle of adolescence when more obstacles come their way? Rated T for relatively mature themes and language.
1. Prologue

**A/N: So I've finally managed to do a sequel to the first 'Love You Like a Sister', which I'm really excited about! Any reviews would be appreciated! Thank you, and enjoy xx**

 **Prologue:**

 **May 2016**

"Honestly, I'll be fine." I beg Johnny, just wanting him to go now, so I could be alone. "I've got ages until my train, I'll get Lenny or one of his cabs to give me a lift the rest of the way."

"You're not gonna do anything stupid?" He checks, concern in his eyes, fingers clasped tightly around the steering wheel of his Jaguar.

"Already have done." I manage a small smile. "That ship sailed a long time ago."

"Take care of yourself." He reaches out to squeeze my hand in his.

"And you." I nod, feeling the warmth of his hand melt into mine briefly, before I let go. "Dad."

I turn and walk off, in the direction of the grassy banks, a singular bag over my shoulder; just the essentials, the delivery van was supposedly transferring the rest. I could feel Johnny's longing gaze on the back of my head, but I don't look back, in the fear that I'd give into it. I had to go, for everyone's sake, and for my own. I pause momentarily, once I've heard the engine disappear and I know there's no way of getting it back. I breathe in the familiar scent, before kicking my heels off, leaving them lying in the grass and heading towards the cliff edge. I throw the bag down, walking a further few metres forward, without any baggage, without anything but myself. I stand so close to the edge of the cliff that I can feel that same sense of freedom I'd gained whenever I'd come here, the rocky cliff face virtually crumbling beneath my feet, partially hoping it did. What was stopping me, really? What did I have going for me? Devon; that was so far out of my comfort zone, the whole idea was a joke. I raise my head, so that my eyes meet the horizon that meant so much to me, that carried too many memories, a strong sense of nostalgia washing over me, so powerful it almost tips me forwards.

"Got to fifteen yet?" A voice sounds behind me, and I don't even need to turn around. Instead, I lower my head, closing my eyes momentarily. I don't know how she knew I'd be here, but then again, she always was better at figuring me out than I was myself.

"Fifteen is long gone." I mumble, loud enough for her to hear me, before I force myself around to face the direction of the voice. I knew she was making reference to 'Chicken', a game we used to play when we came to the quarry as kids. "I don't know what number I'm on now."

"Forty-one?" Michelle has a sense of calmness written into her expression.

"Time flies." I respond, as she comes towards me, sitting down fearlessly on the edge of the quarry, legs dangling over the edge, something she'd always have been terrified of doing back in the day. I guess all these years of reality had finally made her immune to the feeling, something I'd been born with. I hesitate before sitting down next to her, resting in a comfortable silence as we both stare off into the distance, where I could see cars rolling past; workers going back to their families, people rushing to get somewhere with a meaning. "You did well, I'm proud of you. You're married, you've got a son, a business, a home, a family. I always knew you'd get somewhere, I wanted it for you, more than I did myself, because I actually think I cared about that more. Whereas I'm back at the beginning, running away, what I always did best."

"You're not running away." Michelle sighs, avoiding looking at me, as she had done since she arrived. "You're running towards something." She looks down at the dramatic drop that lay below us. "Unless you jumped off here, right now, then you'd be running away."

"That's not true." I shake my head. "I'd be running towards a pit of rock and dust, well, falling towards it."

"Which isn't the answer." She reassures me, as she always had done when I'd been toying with the idea of ending it all.

"Not for you." I smile to myself. "You've got people who love you. Nobody loves me, nobody would give a damn if I never appeared again."

" _I_ love you." Michelle says it with such meaning it makes me shiver, and if I'd never believed anything she's said before, I was believing it now. "I never stopped loving you. You wouldn't let me, because you mean so fucking much… Besides, you know that's not true. You've got Roy and Kate and Aidan, and Johnny. Your machinists, even Sally, she loves you. Nick loves you, he's just trying not to."

"They don't know me though, do they?" I interrupt her, finally forcing myself to turn my head, only to notice she's already staring back at me, her eyes watering with desperation. "There's only one person that's known me inside out, from the beginning."

"And that person is here now, to stop you doing something that would break their heart." She finds my hand in the grass, holding it tightly. "More than any man ever has, or anything, for that matter. Because I need you, whether you're a few houses, or hundreds of miles away. I don't care what biology says Carla, or dads who don't tell you the truth, you're my sister and I love you."

"I love you." I whisper, pausing before resting my head on her shoulder and we both look off into the horizon, as if it would never have to end, like we would all those years ago…


	2. Love Letters

**Chapter 1: Love Letters**

 **Carla**

 _One day, we'll be out there. We won't be living on that estate, with families who don't even know us. Waking up every morning and thinking 'how am I still here?'. Going to bed every night thinking 'that's another day done'. Never wanting to go out because we're afraid of what the future holds. Never wanting to go home because the past will come back to haunt us… But we're so nearly there, Chelle. The fight is almost over._

The clouds are dim as they cast themselves over the contaminated estate. Shadows reflect themselves on the filthy carpet that coats my bedroom floor. I have no source of time; my alarm clock had broken recently and the chances of me getting a new one anytime soon were slim. I roll over, the cracked photo frame with a picture of me and Rob at a caravan park, years ago, almost knocks me unconscious as it falls on to my head from the crammed shelf above. I groan before observing it, stroking my finger over the shattered shards of glass that still try to hold it together. Even back then my smile was forced. I couldn't have been very old; eight, nine maybe, but still with the sunken expression. I can feel the determination to upturn the corners of my mouth, just looking at it. I glance at Rob, unsure as to whether his grin was genuine, or whether he was already weighed down with problems at the age of six, tiringly having to satisfy mum and George with a 'happy' photo of us to send off to the social worker. I sigh before raising my limp arm to place it back on the side table, alongside a pile of other clutter, as a piece of torn notebook paper slides off and onto the floor. I pick it up, unravelling it, despite knowing exactly what it said. The familiar messy writing blurs before my eyes for a few seconds, before coming into focus.

 _Carla,_

 _I know you're probably hungover and hating the world right now as ever. But I need you to know three things, which might put you in a better mood (I can wish)._

 _1._ _Trust me, there are people out there who care about you, and no matter what happens, that will never change._

 _2._ _Try and smile more, because it's a better look on you than any make-up or bruises you gain from a fight. Besides, you deserve to be happy, whether you like it or not._

 _3._ _Don't tell anyone I wrote you this letter, else I will have to kill you… Or attempt to._

 _Liam x_

He'd got it right; it did make me smile, every morning when I opened it up to read since the night of that party. But at the same time, I wanted to screw it up and throw it far into the distance, where I could never see it again, because Liam was messing with my head and we both knew it was supposed to be this way.

Instead, I fold it up neatly again, tucking it underneath some other papers; ink stained overdue homework sheets or receipts from the nearby pub. I close my eyes again, only lightly so I could still see the brightness of the light vaguely flooding in through the cracks, as if I was dreaming, or dead.

"Carla Donovan!" I hear a voice yell, and my eyes suddenly snap open. It was penetrating the thin, cracked glass that coated my window and I sigh before hauling myself out of bed. I pull back my moth-eaten curtain and stare down to where Michelle's angry expression is staring up at me, already kitted out in her uniform, a pile of stones in her hand, ready to aim at my battered window frame. "It's nine o'clock, school has already started!"

"Coming." I pull a face, which she can't help but roll her eyes at, crossing her arms in a stroppy manner. I quickly turn, grabbing my uniform from the bin and hauling it on; buttons unevenly done up and my tie knot hanging about ten centimetres from where it was supposed to be. I squeeze a dollop of foundation into my hand, roughly coating my face with it, before flipping my blazer over my shoulder and exiting my flat. Yep, I really needed a new alarm clock.

 **Michelle**

My mind is working overtime to rearrange all the misshapen thoughts I had dwelled on over the past month or so. The whole situation with Carla was something we hadn't really talked about since it happened, and I couldn't imagine we planned to in the future either. Instead, it hadn't been awkward, and it had just reverted back to how it used to be, whatever that was. Meanwhile, I constantly seethe in the pool of humility that has been drowning me since the night of the party, and hoping that people weren't talking behind my back, or at least any more than they usually do; it was the price I paid for being best friends with Carla.

"Ow!" I suddenly jump, as something sharply prods me in the back. Mr Roddis raises his head from the front of the class, to look at me, inquisitively.

"Michelle, is there a problem?" He asks me, annoyed at my interruption which has disturbed the speech nobody was listening to about the book nobody had read. It was a rough school, and they were constantly battling against the poor grades they were receiving. I actually felt for the teachers, trying their best to scrape enough passes from the students to keep the place open, it was already in special measures. "Anything you want to share with the class?"

"No." I reply, abruptly, before turning to see who had gone out of their way to irritate me, this time. My face collides with Billy; one of the kids in my year who liked to think they hung around with Dean and Liam's group, in the sixth form, when actually they were just used to fetch the football back when it went over the fence. "What?" I hiss, noticing he had prodded the sharp end of his pencil into my shoulder, which was probably why it now throbbed so much.

"Dean wanted me to give you this." He smirks, handing me a crumpled note, that had been rolled into a ball. I frown, taking it off him, trying to figure out whether it was a practical joke. I hadn't spoken to Dean for weeks, in fact I hadn't really seen him since the night we slept together, at Davie Tuttle's birthday party. A night which I still deeply regretted and the thought of it made me feel physically sick. In fact, I thought Dean had been avoiding me, perhaps because he was equally embarrassed or ashamed, or more likely because I was awful in bed and just wanted to laugh it off with his mates. Liam clearly still knew nothing about it though, because I'm sure they wouldn't be as pally as ever if he knew what he'd been up to with his little sister. Reluctantly, I unfold the note, trying to keep it concealed from Mr Roddis' gaze, so I wasn't asked to read it out to the class.

 _Michelle,_

 _I'm sorry we haven't had chance to talk recently, I guess I'm just shy._

Dean, shy? Well this was already starting to look like a pile of bullshit.

 _Truth is, I felt stupid for coming onto you at Davie's party, and I was beating myself up about it, because that's not how I treat girls, well, girls I actually like, and I felt like I ruined things because that's never how I wanted things to work out with us. I'm not good at expressing feelings, so that's why I thought I'd write it down, but I wanted you to know, I'll be down at the quarry tonight, bring Carla, we can have a bit of fun like we always did. I've missed you._

 _Dean xx_

I have to read the note twice trying to properly intake what it said, before struggling to prevent my cheeks from blushing, and failing, drastically. I smile slightly, as I fold the note up, neatly and put it into the pocket of my skirt. I sit in a daze for a few seconds, feeling anxious but excited about later. I hoped Carla didn't have plans, well, of course she wouldn't have. It was a piss-up at the quarry; she'd give up a week's holiday in the Maldives for that.

"Ow!" I snap, again, as the same sharp pain stabs me in the back. I turn, furiously, my cheeks now scarlet for a different reason. "What is it now?" Billy just raises his pencil, aiming it towards the window, where I follow his gaze to see Carla, banging on the window of my classroom. Mr Roddis' head snaps around, immediately setting his eyes on her and shaking his head in annoyance.

"Oi Chelle!" I can hear her muffled shouts, a grin appearing on my face. "School's out, it's three o'clock!"

"Uh, Carla Donovan!" Mr Roddis raises his voice, angrily. "School doesn't finish until you hear the…" There is a sharp ring that sounds around the classroom, and students immediately start packing up their bags. "Bell." He finishes his sentence, and I jump up, slinging my bag over my shoulder and heading out of the classroom and down the corridor to where Carla was waiting for me outside. She immediately links me arm, and drags me off towards the school gates.

"So, you actually managed to stay in school until the end of the day then?" I raise my eyebrows at her. "I'm impressed."

"Well technically I was on the school premises." She narrows her eyes, trying to figure out if her eventful day qualified for a truancy letter. "But I wouldn't say I was doing what the teachers intend for me to do whilst I'm on there… But I did enjoy mixing everybody's PE kits around on the pegs, and writing them nicknames on their name tags."

"You have far too much time on your hands." I shake my head, disapprovingly. "You know you have exams at the end of this year?"

"Ah, I'll just marry a rich man." She shrugs, as we turn the corner.

"Very feminist." I roll my eyes. "You're not intending on marrying Paul anytime soon then?"

"I haven't spoken to him in ages, really." She informs me. "We haven't slept together since the night you beat Aidan up. Neither of us are doing good on the boys front, are we?"

"Well, now you mention it." I cough, awkwardly, producing the note from my pocket. "Look what I received today."

"Let's see." Carla snatches it out of my hand, almost ripping it, and scanning over the letter briefly, before bursting into fits of laughter.

"What?" I snap, annoyed, as I take it back off her.

"Oh God, I didn't realise he could be such a sad case." She grins. "Please, let me have it so I can photocopy it and put it up around the school, it'll really ruin his reputation."

"No!" I retort, folding it back up quickly, making sure I noted to hide it somewhere safe when I got home.

"So, we're going to the quarry tonight then?" Her eyes light up, excitedly.

"Well, I don't know." I shrug, trying to act casual. "Do you want to?"

"Well you want to." She points out. "It's written all over your face."

"It is not." I shake her off, as the estate comes into view. "But yeah, we can go as soon as we're changed, if you want?"

"I'll bet we can." She teases me, in that playful voice that annoys me, but makes me want to smile at the same time. "Hey, can I mention the note?"

"No, you cannot!" I confirm, sharply. "So, don't even think about it."

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Please leave a review if you have the time, they are greatly appreciated!


	3. Butterflies

**Chapter 2: Butterflies**

 **Carla**

I stare at my reflection in the cracked mirror on the wall, the same displeased expression on my face as there always was, behind closed doors. My long, dark hair fell loosely around my shoulders, dark circles covered with concealer, dressed in just an oversized sweatshirt and black jeans, something I rarely wore. I couldn't even remember buying, or stealing, this sweatshirt, but it suited my mood for today. I pick up the box of tic-tacs off the windowsill, tipping one out into my palm and washing it down with a gulp of water, from a bottle that had been sitting out for days. I knew deep down they were just sweets, but by doing this, it made me feel saner, like my mood would lift as it would if they were real tablets. I place them back behind a bunch of tatty books that George had bought me years ago, when he actually made an effort, which I had never made an attempt to read, before hearing the familiar tapping on the wall just below my window.

"Coming!" I duck my head out of the window briefly, seeing Michelle's usual unimpressed expression staring up at me, and I head out into the hallway. "Rob?" I shout, mainly to check my mum and George weren't in, and to my surprise I get a response from him.

"Yeah?" Rob's gruff tone sounds from the bedroom opposite me, and I push the door open hesitantly, to see him lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

"We're going to the quarry, want to come?" I ask, and his face instantly breaks into a grin.

It had been a while since we'd all been to the quarry together. I'd been on my own several times; it was where I went to gather my thoughts, contemplate life. Michelle had accompanied me on a few ventures, but apart from that I hadn't seen Liam properly since the night of the party, which I was slightly nervous about. Even Rob had been distant the past few weeks, and I was looking forward to seeing him smile again. I knew Paul would be a no-show, he was far too 'mature for these games now'; his own words. But part of me weirdly didn't care, part of me didn't even want to see Paul.

Rob flops his arm around my shoulders as we walk, Michelle kicking a stone along, as we cut around the back lanes, the grass becoming longer and more frequent, the air becoming more real, more familiar. Then we turn the corner, and the whole world is laid out before us.

Rob immediately loosens his arm from around me, running over to tackle Liam, who is playing a game of football with Dean and very surprisingly, Tom. Tom was Michelle's cousin, who had come over briefly to stay for a few weeks last year, having a fling with Kimberly Doyle, the bitch in my year. I'd always been quite fond of Tom; he was good looking, cheeky, and he didn't seem to have a problem with me, which was always a bonus. But then again, there wasn't many members of that family I hadn't made a pass at yet…

Michelle notices him instantly, running over, as he picks her up and spins her in the air, clearly forgetting all about Dean. My eyes, however, fall straight on Liam, and his eyes unfortunately, have the same idea about me.

"Hi." I smile at him, speaking quietly for a change, which seems to surprise him.

"Hi." He responds, in the same smooth tone, with the slight lisp that makes me feel comfortable no matter what situation or mood I was in. "I like your sweatshirt."

"Oh… Thanks." I frown, glancing down at it. It was strange of Liam to be so observant. "I don't even know where I got it from."

"Me." He replies and I instantly blush, freezing up awkwardly. "I put it on you the night of the party, to keep you warm."

"Uh…" I stammer, now embarrassed. "You can have it back."

"No." He stops me, as I begin to take it off. He pulls it back down over my head, causing a strand of hair to fall across my face. He pushes it behind my ear, without thinking, hesitating as he realises what he is doing. "I uh… Wouldn't want you to be cold again."

We gaze at each other for a few seconds, and I am completely lost, until a voice calling my name snaps me back to reality.

"Carla." Tom throws his arm around me, kissing me on the cheek as a greeting. "Still up to your old tricks, I see."

"You know me." I paint a smile on my face, laughing awkwardly, as I give him a hug. "How come you're up?"

"Well I finished college, didn't want to do anything else just yet, so I thought; why not come and visit my favourite cousins." He indicates to Michelle, who has now just noticed Dean, and is quick to look down at the floor, in order to avoid his gaze.

 **Michelle**

"So, you've been a bit naughty since I've last seen you then?" Tom turns to me, and I shudder, my body going static for a few seconds. Shit, what had Dean said?

"Huh?" I try to act casual, praying nothing would be exposed in front of Liam, else someone would be going over the edge of that quarry within a matter of seconds. I glance at Carla, who looks almost as worried as me, and that was never a good sign. "What… What do you mean?"

"You." He laughs, and I can see the confusion in Liam's face. "Beating that annoying kid Aidan up."

"Oh!" I practically shout, relieved, and I see Carla mirror my gaze. "Yeah that was great." I say, without realising, internally kicking myself for acting like a complete idiot already in front of Dean. "I mean, it didn't go down well."

"I don't blame you though." Tom shrugs, putting his arm around me. "I'd have done the same. So why d'ya do it?"

"Uh…" Carla interrupts, searching for another reason, other than the fact he'd accused us of being gay. "Well, I think it's pretty self-explanatory why."

"Anyway." Liam coughs, sitting down on top of the football. "We gonna play or what?"

"I'm in." Carla sits down beside him, excitedly, and Tom accompanies her, leaving Dean and I facing one another whilst the others chatted away.

"So… This is a coincidence." Dean smiles, lowering his tone. "Us being here at the same time."

"I got your note." I point out, blushing slightly as I say it.

"Ah, I kinda wish Billy never gave you that." He cringes, black hair flopping over his forehead. "It was stupid."

"It wasn't." I tell him, and he meets my gaze for a few seconds. For a brief moment, I think he is going to kiss me, but unfortunately Liam's beckoning destroys any chance of that happening.

"Come on you two, you're missing all the fun." He yells, and I groan before sitting down next to Carla, Rob annoyingly wedging himself between Dean and I.

"I'm not playing truth or dare." I cross my arms, defensively.

"Kill joy." Carla grins and I shoot her a look.

"Spin the bottle?" Rob suggests, his eyes wide with excitement.

"No." I cut him off. I knew exactly why he wanted to play spin the bottle, and that was exactly why I didn't want to.

"Well then, we'll just sit here in the awkward tension that you're providing for us." Rob's eyes glimmer, as they dart between Dean and I. I have to glance at Carla before I remember; I'd told Rob about the night I'd slept with Dean. "That seems like fun."

"Awkward tension?" Liam frowns, confused. I shoot a daring look at rob, as if it was going to affect any of his decisions; he had no loyalties to me. He'd had a crush on me forever, and Dean was the person standing in the way of that, why wouldn't he want to see him squirm? "What do you mean?"

"Paul!" I suddenly hear Carla cry out, and I'd never been so glad and surprised to hear the sound of my brother's name. I turn to look I the direction she is waving, and see him heading towards us, kitted out in a suit which makes me think he didn't dress with the intention of coming to the quarry.

 **Carla**

My heart is beating faster as soon as I see Paul heading towards us, I didn't know whether it was because of nerves, fear or excitement, but seeing his face again was definitely having an impact on me. I didn't know why I was waving, I told myself not to go back there, I was better on my own, but the expression on his face as he approaches tells me he wasn't here to see me either, so it didn't look like I had anything to worry about.

"You've gotta come with me." Paul suddenly grabs Michelle's arm, pulling her up harshly.

"Woah, what's going on?" Liam interrupts, protective over his younger sister.

"Mum wants her home." Paul informs him, in a stern tone which was clearly scaring Michelle. Well, it wasn't scaring me.

"Oi!" I stand up, confidently. "Let her go, you'll hurt her in a minute."

"Shut up, Carla." He snaps at me, and I'm almost taken-aback by his response. I know we hadn't ended it on good terms last time, but I didn't think it had spiralled this much out of control.

"Paul!" Michelle shouts at him, trying to shove him off. "Get off me!"

"Mum sent me to get you." He tells her, loosening his grip slightly. "Says she doesn't want you hanging around here anymore."

"Well I don't care." She retorts, bravely, as Dean stands up, ready to intervene. "She knows I'm with Liam."

"Yeah, and she also knows you're with these." He gives me a sharp look, diverting it to Rob, briefly, then back to me.

"Ay?" I raise my voice, hearing it become shrill with annoyance. "You were sleeping with me a few weeks ago, so don't make out I'm some kind of scum you've found on the bottom of your shoe now."

"Ok, let's all calm down." Dean takes the moral high-ground, which annoys me, I knew what I was doing, I'd known Michelle most of my life, better than anyone and he wasn't about to stand in the way of that.

"I came to my senses." Paul practically spits at me.

"Oh, look at you in your fancy suit." I shout at him, anger brewing in my fists. "Can you feel the breeze? Up there on your high horse? Because I wouldn't say you're an angel either, despite what 'mummy' says. I've got some secrets of yours I'm sure you wouldn't want me to share, hey? So, let her go."

"One day, Carla." He finally releases Michelle, as Dean runs over to her, as if he was the hero in this situation. Paul gets so close to me, I can smell the cheap aftershave and stale coffee that familiarly made me feel uneasy. "You'll be lying in the gutter, with nobody to call an ambulance for yer, and you won't be so cocky then, trust me. We'll all be gone, you won't have anybody to save, apart from yourself. So, enjoy it while it lasts."

I am about to fight back with some spur of the moment insult, but Liam gets there first, with a better solution; punching him clean across the face and knocking him to the ground. He winces, blinking a few times before staring up at me, in surprise.

"Who's in the gutter now." I whisper, aggressively.

"Fuck off, Paul." Liam shakes his head, moving me backwards, as a rush of butterflies suddenly flutter through my body. It is this, and the sheer shock of Paul's words, that cause me to run away. Turning towards the cliff that climbs further over to the left, without looking back.

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 _ **Please leave a review to let me know what you think if you have the time, it's much appreciated :)**_


	4. A Very Beautiful Disaster

**Chapter 3: A Very Beautiful Disaster**

 **Michelle**

I know exactly where to go to find her, and it's after great persuasion with my brothers that I do so, leaving them to fight it out, with Dean as the referee. I was glad to be away from him, just seeing his face after all this time had given me that uneasy, anxious feeling that I knew, if I wasn't careful would tip me over the edge again. There was only one person who knew how to deal with that, and she was currently sat on a cliff edge, so I try to pull myself together as I approach her, cautiously.

"I can always rely on you, can't I?" I sit cross legged, next to her, so I wasn't taking the risk of dangling my legs over the edge like she was. She doesn't jump, or even show any sign of awareness at the sound of my voice, just stares off into the distance, although I knew she was grateful I'd come after her. "Thanks for sticking up for me."

"You know I'll always stick up for you." She responds, in a matter-of-factly tone which makes me feel more relaxed. "Even if it means risking my own life. You're like my little sister, I'd probably save you over Rob."

"Well I'd definitely save you over Paul." I scoff, seeing her sullen expression, as she lets out a sad sigh. "You know he didn't mean what he said."

"Didn't he?" She raises an eyebrow. "Because it's what everyone else thinks."

"I don't." I remind her, and she smiles slightly, reaching for my hand and giving it a tight squeeze.

"That's because you're stupid." She fires back, a jokey tone to her voice and I can't help but grin at her comment. "You know, I actually felt excited when I saw him at first. I hadn't seen him in so long, I thought he might come over, put an arm around me, maybe even apologise. My bad, I guess I'm the stupid one."

"He's just temperamental." I shake my head. "I'm not excusing him but he's got his last few business exams coming up."

"And my life is a pile of horse shit, but you don't see me mouthing off and dragging people around." She hesitates, exchanging a look with me before exhaling sharply. "Well… People I care about, at least."

"So, you do care about Paul then?" I point out, already knowing the answer to this question.

"Of course I care about him." She mumbles, as if ashamed to admit it. "I…"

"Have feelings for him?" I finish her sentence and watch her eyes narrow, as if trying to figure it out.

"I don't know." She closes her eyes, momentarily. "I don't know which feeling is which. I don't even know how I'm feeling most of the time, never mind feelings for other people."

"Do you still not know how you feel about me?" I ask the question so casually, I'm surprised at my calmness.

"I've always known how I feel about you, Chelle." She replies, without offering any further explanation.

"Well then that's a start, at least you're getting somewhere with clearing your head out." I shrug, trying to create a positive outlook.

"My head is about as cluttered as my bedroom." She says. "There's still stuff lying at the bottom of there that I'll probably never dig up."

"And one day you'll sort it all out." I reassure her, and she sighs, thinking the same thing as me. 'One day', it was a term used too much, a term we only half believed in. We were both waiting for 'one day' to come, and when it did, I hoped it was as good as we'd been imagining for all these years.

"Can we go out tomorrow night?" Carla asks me, as I slump my head down onto her shoulder. "I want to get drunk."

"You always want to get drunk." I remind her and see a hint of a smile appear on her face.

"Please?" She pleads with me, looking straight into my eyes.

"If we must." I shrug, as she tilts her forehead against mine, before putting her arm around me, as we both stare out into the distance.

 **Carla**

I emerge from the bedroom, after dressing in a tight black mini-dress, red heels and a velvet choker around my neck. I head into the kitchen, where I notice a large brown stain coating the kitchen counter, I dread to think what that was. I grab the bottle of whiskey from the cupboard, taking a sharp gulp of it, before tilting my head back against the cupboard door and closing my eyes momentarily.

"Where the 'ell do you think you're going?" George suddenly snaps me out of my trance, and I drop the whiskey bottle to the floor in shock, hearing it smash on the cold tiles below. Shit. I see George's eyes go wide, immediately rising from the battered armchair and approaching me menacingly. He stares down at the smashed glass, hazel fluid running bitterly underneath them, racing towards our feet. "That was my whiskey."

"There wasn't much left." I respond, bravely, trying to move further away from him, despite being trapped in a dead end against the kitchen counter. "I'll get you another one."

"How?" He shouts in my face, forcing my head backwards. "You haven't even got a job!"

"Neither have you." I point out, daringly. "A few lucky streaks in the casino doesn't qualify, I'm afraid."

"Don't you get cocky with me." He points a finger at me, aggressively. "You pick every single scrap of that glass up."

"What? So you can cut me with it?" I raise my eyebrows, testing him, and he turns, looking at me hatefully for a few seconds.

"You do a good enough job of that yourself." He smirks, and my breath catches in my throat, causing my eyes to water. I fight to find a breath, panicking before I do so, before it becomes rapid and shallow. I stare at him, resentfully, both knowing he had pushed the boundaries. I have to restrain myself from hitting him, I doubt he could do much damage when he was this wasted, I'd probably have the upper hand for a change. But I don't give him the satisfaction. Instead, I kick the pile of glass, before forcefully pushing past him. I don't stop to grab a jacket or any emergency belongings, before I storm out of the flat, slamming the door. I pelt it down the stairs, in desperation of air, breathing it in furiously, intaking so much so fast that I have to slide down the wall, sinking as I feel the rough concrete beneath me.

"Carla?" Michelle appears from the side of the block, early again to collect me. I can hear the panic in her voice as she sees me, running over and kneeling by my side. "Breathe, one, two, three, four." She reminds me, in a calm manner, knowing all too well how to handle these situations. It was as if she had no fear about her all of a sudden, despite loathing this side of the estate, I reckon she'd fight off anyone right now if it meant keeping me calm. "Hey, I'm here now." She clasps my hand in hers and I steady my breathing eventually, looking up at her caring gaze. "What's happened?"

"I just hate it." I manage to mumble, finding the strength to pull myself up. "All of it."

Michelle doesn't say anything, she just pulls me in, wrapping her arms around me. I breathe in her soft, comforting scent and it relaxes me, before she pulls away, looking at me intently.

"Anyway, enough with all the soppy stuff." I blurt out, trying to block the anger and hurt out of my mind, like all the other shit in my life. She cracks a smile, and I link my arm with hers, walking off out of the estate. "Let's go and get drunk."

 **Michelle**

The local pub is already rowdy when we arrive at seven thirty, and I grab Carla's hand as she leads me through the entrance, pushing past a group of leery men who crane their necks to peer down our dresses. As soon as we're in the main bar, Carla doesn't hesitate before leaning over the counter, her eyes lighting up like a kid in a sweet shop when she sees the array of booze in front of her.

"Carla, haven't seen you in here in a while." Harry, the barman greets her, eyeing her up and down as usual. He knows full well she's under age, as do most people around here, but even some of the older blokes down question it, they wouldn't dare, nobody would.

"Ah, your till been a bit lighter has it?" She grins, flashing him a flirtatious smile, and I roll my eyes, taking the time to observe the crowds of people around us and check there's nobody I needed to avoid.

"If you paid for drinks, then yeah." He points out, not looking bothered about it. "What you having."

"Two glasses of red." She smiles. "Large." She hesitates as Harry fetches our drinks, placing them down on the counter. "And I don't suppose you've got any jobs going?"

"You're serious?" He frowns at her, and I copy his look, confused as to why Carla would ever even think about working in this dump. "You wouldn't want to work here, babe. Trust me."

"Well I can handle it on this side of the bar." She shrugs. "Surely it can't be that hard."

"You'd like to think?" Harry raises his eyebrows. "But no, sorry kidda. Why don't you ask your Liam if he's got any shifts going in the chippy?"

"I'm not that desperate." She replies, pulling a face. "Besides, I've got a face too good to be getting that grease all over it."

"Can't argue with that." Harry grins, as Carla throws a few coins down on the counter and pulls me over to a free table in the corner.

"Since when were you looking for a job?" I ask her, as we sit down, and I take a sip of the bitter tasting red fluid in my glass.

"Since George told me I needed one." Carla bites her lip, looking off into the distance slightly.

"Well he's hardly one to blow his own trumpet." I scoff. "When was the last time he did a day's work?"

"Exactly what I said." She grimaces, taking a big swig of her wine at the thought. "He didn't like that though, followed it up with some insults about my mental health… And how I cope with it."

"Yeah well, don't you listen to him." I lean across the table, grabbing her hand, and she pulls it away sharply, looking around the pub as if we had something to hide. I knew why, last time we had made a scene in here it had caused rumours to spread all over the school, subsequently resulting in Carla's fight with Kimberly, and my little knock off with Aidan. "Sorry."

"No, don't be." She shakes her head. "It's me, being all paranoid. I'm really on edge tonight, I don't know why. So anyway, how's it going with Dean?"

"Non-existent." I bluntly reply, the sound of his name making me feel uneasy again. "I just don't know how I feel about him."

"Hey, he was your first." Carla lowers her voice slightly, knowing I wouldn't want it shouted around the pub. "I remember that feeling; ashamed, embarrassed, not knowing whether you messed it up or not."

"Yep, I'm feeling tonnes better now." I point out, sarcastically and she sighs.

"I'm just saying." She persists. "That you're not the only one who feels that way, and it gets better, I promise, with or without Dean."

"Well, I never want to do it again." I stare down at the table, sulkily. "It's horrible. It hurt and I kept wanting to tell him to stop."

"But you didn't?" Carla looks at me, concerned.

"No, I didn't." I reassure her. "Because I wanted it over and done with, and I also didn't want the news spreading around the school."

"You never had to rush things, baby." She reminds me. "I mean, I did that and it's one of my biggest regrets. I wish I was still a virgin."

"No you don't!" I exclaim, grinning slightly. "You were forever bragging about it before."

"Yeah only because I'm insecure and wanted people to think I was interesting or special." She lowers her voice again, admitting these things only to me. "Turns out I'm just a slag."

I shake my head at her, knowing she wouldn't believe me if I denied it. Instead, I lean back in my chair, looking out the cracked window to where the sun was setting over the line of dirty bungalows further up the street.

"What are we gonna do, ay?" I sigh, before turning my head to look back at her. "What a pair."

"Forever and always." She smiles, clinking her glass against mine, before finishing it off. "Right, another?"

"I've barely started this-" I begin to say, before she cuts me off.

"Excellent, I'll be back in a moment." She winks, before getting up and heading back over to the bar. She was a walking disaster, a very beautiful disaster, but a nightmare all the same. But I didn't care, the front, the insecurity, the speculation, it didn't faze me. I loved her for who she was, and that was something that would never change.


	5. Lou

**Chapter 4:**

 _ **A/N: I wanted to cover Lou's death, despite not really mentioning her in the prequel. Some dates don't add up completely but oh well. Thanks for reading x**_

 **Carla**

After dropping a rather drunk Michelle back home, and checking she'd made it safely to her bedroom without her parents noticing, I head up the staircase of my block, tottering on certain steps and grasping onto the bits of handrail that still existed, to keep myself upright. I am about to turn the corner into the hallway that leads to my flat, before I hear a familiar voice.

"You just take care." Johnny's voice is soft and surprisingly caring. I lean up against the cool, peeling wall of the estate, confused as to why Johnny had called around to ours.

"I'm trying my best, Johnny." I hear mam's voice, frail and desperate. She sounded as if she had been crying. Perhaps George had beat her, or she'd been on the drugs again. She'd given up with selling them for a while, no pram's to store them in as a cover.

"Evidently." I hear him reply, more bitterly than before and I peer around the wall discreetly to see my mother holding a white envelope. A few muffled words are exchanged before Johnny turns. I hide back behind the wall immediately, and hear the sound of his footsteps coming closer. I debate running off, back down the steps, but know I'll end up tripping up. Instead, I compose myself and pretend I'm still on my way towards the flat.

"Carla!" Johnny's face comes into view, his voice lowered as he looks at me with a shocked expression.

"Oh hi Johnny." I greet, as if I'd had no idea he was here. "What are you doing around these parts?"

"Uh, I just came to drop something off." He tells me, looking shifty. "Undelivered mail, found it on the floor outside your block as I was passing."

"Oh." I nod, careful not to slur my words.

"Your mother told me you had another run in with George earlier." He asks, concern on his face.

"How does she know?" I frown.

"George must have told her." He shrugs. "Maybe he felt guilty."

"I doubt that." I scoff, looking down and I can feel his gaze on me for a few seconds.

"How are yer?" He says, softly and I look up at him, confused as to why he cared.

"Top of the world." I lie, making it deliberately sarcastic and he almost looks guilty for a moment.. "But I'll manage, I always do."

"You can always come to ours, if you need." He offers.

"No thanks." I smile. "I don't think Aidan would be too pleased about that."

"Ah he likes you more than he lets on." Johnny assures me.

"Probably fancies me." I try to laugh, thinking he'll find it funny. But instead he has a slightly put-out look on his face, almost disgusted. My face returns to seriousness, well if the idea was that unappealing to him, I definitely didn't want his help. Yet another person who looks down on me.

"I've gotta get back." I push past him, not looking back as I head along the hallway. Judgement was something I had grown up with, and I was used to it by now. But it still hurt when people like Paul and Johnny, who I'd known most of my life, carry the same opinions.

"Carla." I hear him call me back, ignoring him, as I forcefully push the door open to my flat. Not hesitating before slamming it behind me and heading straight into my bedroom.

"Rob?" The word slips out of my mouth, surprised as I see him sitting on the edge of my bed, staring at the floor. He raises his head to look at me, and I immediately notice he's been crying. That was alarm bells in itself; Rob hardly ever cries. "What's the matter?" I sit down next to him, putting my arm around his shoulders..

"I'm scared." He whispers, his face fearful as he meets my gaze.

"Scared of what?" I ask, suddenly protective. I had no doubt in my mind that Rob could look after himself, but if someone was causing him trouble, I'd be the first to defend him. "Is someone threatening you?"

"No." He shakes his head.

"You're in trouble?" I guess. "What have you done now?"

"I haven't done anything." He raises his voice slightly. "I heard what George said to you. He hates us Carla. Everybody hates us. No, everybody hates me. At least you've got friends."

"Friend." I point out. "One friend, well, two friends if you count."

"What's gonna happen when we get older?" He questions, begging for reassurance. "Ey? What happens when we get kicked out one day and have to live on the streets."

"That's not gonna happen-" I start, before he cuts me off.

"How do you know that?" He demands, still sounding terrified. "We're both failing at school, mam hasn't got a job, George is useless, we've got no other family."

"You've got your dad." I remind him.

"Dad doesn't want anything to do with me anymore." He admits, looking back down at the floor.

"What, why?" I ask, Rob visited his dad from time to time, whenever things got really shit here.

"Because I stole from him." He sighs, shuffling his feet. "Caught me raiding his wallet."

"Oh Rob." I groan, putting my head in my hands.

"I wasn't even gonna buy drugs with it!" He argues, as if that made it any better. "I was gonna buy mam a birthday present."

I glance at him, closing my eyes momentarily.

"Listen." I whisper, pulling his head onto my shoulder. "I promise you, everything will be ok. Whatever happens, we've got each other. I'll always protect you, okay?"

"You promise?" He looks up at me and I nod, linking my little finger with his.

"Promise." I smile.

 **Michelle**

I try to drag the make up off my face, using a piece of toilet roll that had been lying on my bedroom floor. I'd managed to make it unnoticed again, which meant a great sense of relief had set in. I glance across to the photo frame on my bedside table; me and Carla on my last day of primary school. We had our arms around each other, smiling; actually smiling. Smiling because we knew we had one another. I remember Liam taking it that day, Carla had only been in year seven but had still demanded he took about fifty photos on our grandads knackered old camera, until she looked half decent.

I give up with the tissue, throwing it back onto the carpet, and lolling onto my bed. The wine was making me feel uneasy, although I did warn myself. The room begins to spin and I close my eyes, knowing I'd fall asleep involuntarily, but sometimes it was the only way to go.

"Michelle, wake up." I suddenly hear my dad's fist banging on the door. I sit bolt upright, the shock causing fear to momentarily pulsate through my body. I check the clock; just past twelve am, it definitely wasn't morning.

"Michelle." I hear Paul's voice as another fist bangs on the door, hearing the sound of smashing glass on the hall outside my door. My panic sets in harder, we were being robbed or attacked, my worst nightmare of living around here. I crawl to the end of my bed, thinking about barricading my door shut. Then again, why would they be drawing attention to me if we were in danger. My door suddenly opens and I scream, cowering at the end of my bed. Liam's face is blurry as it comes into view, and my eyes go wide, as he closes the door behind him, coming over and sitting next to me.

"Hey." He reassures me, his voice soft and caring. He strokes my hair and it relaxes me a little, he bends his head to look into my eyes. "Hey it's okay, there's nothing to worry about I promise."

"What's... Going on." I stammer, trying to steady my breathing and he holds my hand, calming me down.

"Everything's okay, don't panic." He repeats, calmly and eventually I calm down enough to regulate my breathing. "Have you been out?" He asks and I nod, obediently, trusting him not to tell mum and dad. He smiles, warmly, before opening my drawer and pulling out a pair of pyjamas. "Put these on, I'll be back in a sec." He says before leaving, closing the door behind him. I am quick to undress, the room still spinning, but sensing urgency in his tone.

"Is Michelle up or what?" I can hear my dad asking Liam, before he reappears, a glass of water and a wipe in his hand. He offers me the wipe and I clean the make-up off my face quickly, before taking the water and managing to down it.

"Right, listen carefully, Chelle." He whispers, taking my hand again. "Lou has had an accident, okay? She's in hospital."

"Is she ok?" My eyes widen. Lou was Aidan and Kate's mum, we never saw her too often because she worked away in Spain from time to time, but it was obvious her and Johnny had been having some troubles for a while.

"We don't know." He admits, squeezing my hand. "But we've got to go to the hospital. So you've got to act sober."

"Ok." I nod, as he leads me out of the bedroom. I feel a lot less intoxicated than I had a few minutes ago, probably because the panic had knocked it out of my system.

"How long does it take to get out of bed?" My mum gives me a disapproving look, before ushering us all out of the door, slamming it behind her.

It wasn't a long trip to the hospital, I stare out of the window and up at the stars most of the way there, wedged between mum and Liam in the back, as Paul was the only one with a car. The white washed walls and constant unreasonable beeping was something I was used to, when we arrived in reception. If I wasn't here for one of dad's operations or check-ups, it would be because one of Carla's scraps had taken a wrong turn, or she needed the morning after pill. I sit uncomfortably on one of the rock hard chairs, Liam taking a seat next to me and putting his hoodie around my shoulders, followed by his arm. He pulls me into his side, popping a kiss on the top of my head. I could tell he was worried, Liam was easier to see through, Paul not so much. Mum and dad begin to head through some double doors, and Paul beckons for us to follow. Corridor, after corridor, the repetition made me feel sick and Liam doesn't let go of me the whole time. I can hear mum's faint whimpers as we round a corner into a smaller waiting room, and my eyes suddenly meet Johnny, head bent and hands clasped in his lap. Aidan is pacing up and down, whilst Kate is curled up on a chair with a blanket over her.

"Johnny." Mum greets him, misery and worry in her tone, and he immediately gets up to hug her, before returning to his mourning position. I can see the panic woven into dads expression, and that's when I realise; this isn't a social call. Aidan immediately glances at me, close to tears, I try to refrain my breathing from increasing. I needed to stay calm, if anything for him and Kate.

"Hi." I murmur, as Aidan awkwardly stands at my side. I immediately kick myself for saying it, noting the worry on his face and I hesitate before grabbing his hand which hangs loosely next to me, giving it a comforting squeeze. This is something I'd never dream of doing, but I knew now that this wasn't a time for petty games.

"I need her to be ok." Aidan whispers, so quietly only I can hear, and my breath catches in my throat, wishing I could say something that would make things better. I'm about to muster some pointless attempt at consoling him, before a sharp and unwelcome voice intrudes all of our thoughts.

"Ah, well aren't you two cute?" I spin around immediately to see Carla, eyebrows raised and hands on hips as she observes the scene before her, eyeing me and Aidan up and down, and I instantly let go of his hand.

"What the 'ell do you think you're doing here?" Paul takes the liberty of speaking first, aggressively walking towards her, so their faces virtually touched. "Get out."

"Uh, sorry Paul, I forgot you got the job as hospital security." She snaps, her gaze falling to my mother, who was shooting her a displeased glance back. Rob strolls in, delayed, with his hands in his pockets and his head bent, hardly identifiable under the tatty cap he never removed, followed by Sharon, still kitted out in her dirty, stained dressing gown, dark circles under her eyes. She looked drunk, come to think of it, they all looked drunk. But then again, so was I, although it seemed to be wearing off under the pressure of unknowing.

"Where's Lou?" Sharon slurs, shuffling awkwardly in the doorway, and lifting her head to look at my parents. They rarely interacted, or at least my parents tried to avoid it as much as possible, and when they occasionally did, it was limited of pleasantries.

"Carla." Liam pushes Paul out of the way lightly, which he surprisingly doesn't object to, walking over to put his arm around mum. "Now isn't the time."

"Isn't the time for what?" Carla's voice softens automatically as she talks to Liam. "I'm here for the same reason all of you are. Not to cause trouble."

"Please, take your mam home." He indicates to her, her sunken expression, her lack of effort for life. I was wondering whether she even realised she was here.

"I can talk y'know." She suddenly raises her voice, and I shiver, almost believing she'd read my thoughts. "If you've got anything to say, say it to me, not that lousy excuse for a daughter."

"Don't even get me started." Carla spins around, shoving a finger in her face and I move forwards, grabbing her hand and pulling her off into the corner.

"Look, I don't know what's going on, but it's serious." I hiss, so that only she could hear. "Please, I'm begging you Car, don't make a scene. Not now."

Carla nods her head, understandingly, before shiftily going to sit down in one of the spare chairs..

"It's disgusting of you to even think you're welcome here." My mum starts, bitterness in her tone. I can see she's riled up with a further lecture, but is surprisingly cut off by Johnny.

"Let her stay, Helen." Johnny insists, still sitting with his head bent. He almost gives Carla a warm glance, which she acknowledges, refraining from starting an argument with my mum, which I admire her for. Sharon leans up against the door frame, meeting the eyes of my family, her head dipping a little more in disgrace. There is a whimper as Kate begins to stir, and looks surprised as she opens her eyes to notice a sea of audience members, staring back at her.

"Daddy..." She mumbles and I feel my heart sink. "What's going on?"

"Michelle, why don't you take Kate to get something from the vending machine." Dad digs in his pocket, pulling out a paperclip, cork and crumpled up betting sheet, before awkwardly shoving them back in. "Or at least a walk down the corridor."

"I don't want to." I dare to reply, firmness in my voice and mum looks shocked at my reaction.

"Michelle." Mum warns. "Listen to your father."

"The Connor family?" A nurse enters, interrupting a brewing argument, and I immediately get a churning feeling in my stomach. Her expression gave everything away, it wasn't a game of whist, although I wished she was bluffing.

"That's us." Johnny stands, approaching her, and Kate runs over to Aidan, tucking into his side.

"Your wife has suffered serious injuries from the blow of the traffic, and then further critical injuries from the aftermath." The nurse relays to us, her voice hasty. "...I'm afraid we've done everything we can."

"That's... No..." Johnny stutters and I feel Aidan tense up. "Please... Please I'm begging you. I've got two children, they need their mother. Please."

"I'm so sorry." The nurse practically whispers, trying to uphold a professional manner. I feel my eyes welling up, and notice Aidan's are too. Kate looks up at the pair of us, her face falling in realisation.

"There's got to be something." Dad pipes up, as Liam approaches me, putting his arm supportively around my shoulder. "You're a hospital, you can do something, I know you can."

"We tried resuscitation." She informs us, and I feel tears start to roll down my cheeks, as mum starts to whimper. Paul puts his arms around her. "There was been no response. There's nothing else that could have been done. I'm so sorry."

"Thank you." Johnny murmurs, dismissing her, as he stares at the floor in shock. Kate bursts out crying, wrapping her arms around Aidan's waist, as he falls to the floor, crying into Kate's hair. Liam goes over to sit Johnny down, kneeling next to him. I feel a pair of arms wrap around my body, and lean into Carla's chest, her heart beating rapidly, both of us shaking. The room is filled with an eerie and mournful silence, as more cries begin to sound, and I feel Carla stroking my hair comfortingly. I can't let out a sound. I just hold her tighter, hoping she'll never let me go.


	6. Four's a Crowd

**Chapter 5: Four's a Crowd**

 _ **A/N: I don't know whether people are still reading this story or not, but if you are, hope you enjoy this update!**_

 **Carla**

"Do you want to come in?" Helen asks me, sincerity in her voice as I go to walk past her block, to my considerably more grotty looking one. I turn, not quite believing what she had said, and see her mournful expression looking back at me.

"That's alright." I smile, my voice croaky from restraining tears. "You don't need us hanging around."

"No honestly." She stops me, as I go to walk off, before Rob catches up with me. "I'm sure we can put our differences aside... For tonight."

"...I should really be getting mam home." I point to where she was slumped up against the wall of the estate, lighting a cigarette from her dressing gown pocket. "Otherwise I doubt she'll make it there, as tempting as that sounds."

"Don't turn down the offer of central heating." Rob grabs my arm, dragging me towards the staircase and I immediately retaliate his advances, pulling him around to face me.

"Oi." I snap under my breath, causing him to look slightly taken aback. "Now is not the time to be lusting after Michelle."

"I wasn't!" Rob exclaims aggressively. "You watch it."

" _You_ watch it." I warn him, keeping my voice low. "I know you're not so tough, crybaby."

"Oh yeah, you're one to talk." He practically spits and I shove him against the wall, his eyes going wide and we stare at each other for a moment.

"Carla!" Michelle's voice sounds, although nobody makes an attempt to separate us. I glance across at her, noticing Helen and Barry's disapproving expressions, little Kate all teary eyed and innocent, before looking back at Rob. What was I doing?

"Sorry." I release him, and he actually looks hurt at my actions.

"It's always about her." Paul tuts slightly and I glare at him. "Can't let anybody else have the limelight for one damn night."

"Ey?" I snap at him.

"Nobody wants the spotlight!" Johnny exclaims, silencing everyone. The quietness passes through the early morning air. I had no idea what time it was; three, four maybe. It was still pitch black and the coolness of the wind was billowing through each of our mourning bodies. "Will you all just shut up?"

"Come on, Johnny." Helen puts an arm around him and I see him exchange a look with mam. She begins to follow after him up the stairs, and Rob shoots me a dark look before heading in the same direction.

"Not tonight." I suddenly realise Michelle has moved closer to me, and it's just me and her as everybody disappears up the staircase. "Come up for a drink."

"What if I forget to use my manners?" I ask, bitterly, feeling extremely guilty because I knew this had hit her hard. A lot harder than me. Or at least should have.

"Surprisingly I don't think anybody cares." She reminds me and I nod, understandingly.

"Chelle are you alright?" I ask, gently and she forces a smile. "...I'm sorry for making a scene."

"I'm used to it." She responds and I study her for a moment before pulling her into a hug.

"Sorry, sweetheart." I whisper, stroking my fingers through her hair. "Come on then."

 **Michelle**

"No thanks." I hold my hand up as Paul offers me a glass of whiskey, squashed up against the wall practically in Carla's lap, who was lapping up hers.

"Drink it." Paul orders, but a lot gentler than I anticipated.

"If she doesn't want to drink it. She doesn't have to." Liam defends me, from the sofa where he was sat between dad and Aidan. I was still feeling rough from earlier, the last thing I wanted was to throw up over mum's carpet and make matters worse than they already were. Paul studies me, before moving the glass and offering it to Rob, who accepts it gratefully. I watch him down it, his gaze shifting to me and he gives me a warm smile, which I return without thinking.

"Ok, why did nobody ever tell me about the club on Peel Street?" Tom's rowdy voice sounds, making me jump and everybody turns to stare at him as he enters the room, two cans of red stripe in his hand, still with the half empty packaging wrapped around them. He looks taken-aback at all our expressions, clearly not expecting such a welcome upon his return. "...What's going on?"

"Tom." Liam stands up, going over to him and pulling the cans from his grasp. He whispers the obvious news in his ear and Tom's expression immediately falls.

"Oh God..." He trails off, looking apologetic. "I'm so sorry... How? When?"

"Here." Carla stands up, taking the bottle from Paul's grip and pouring out a glass of whiskey, handing it to him.

"I'm alright." Tom holds up his cans, sullenly and Carla shrugs, taking a sip from the glass she had poured out.

"Can't let it go to waste." She passes the bottle back to Paul. "We don't get this posh stuff back at our hell hole, do we brother dearest? Well... I say posh. I mean at least it's not nicked."

"That was my Christmas present." Dad mutters, as Carla drains the glass. "I was saving it for a special occasion."

"And you think this is a special occasion?" Aidan pipes up from the sofa, bringing his head out of his hands. "My mum is dead."

"I didn't mean it like that." Dad sighs and I make eye contact with Aidan, who gets up, storming out of the room. I hesitate before standing up, figuring nobody else would have the decency to go after him.

"Hey, Aid." I call after him, leaving the flat and seeing him leaning up against the balcony.

"Careful Chelle." Aidan mumbles, scuffing his feet on the wearing concrete floor. "Might ruin your reputation, standing here with me."

"You're my cousin." I sigh, standing opposite him and leaning against the rough wall of the flats. "Besides, I'm not Carla, reputation really doesn't mean that much to me."

"Oh yeah." He scoffs quietly and I raise my eyebrows as he tilts his head up to look at me. "Is that why you beat me up over a joke about you and Carla?"

"...I'm sorry about that." I meet his gaze, awkwardly. "I just lost it... I was having a rough day anyway, I shouldn't have."

"Yeah well, it's taught me not to spread rumours so." He shrugs, narrowing his eyes slightly. "Whether it was a rumour or not... I said some horrible things. I'm sorry. I don't blame you."

"Do you fancy Carla?" I grin slightly, teasing him.

"Do you?" He raises his eyebrows, actually managing a small smile despite the circumstances and my face falls. "I won't tell dad."

"...No." I deny, because to be honest, I didn't know the answer myself. Most people fancied Carla. Most people denied it. Most people didn't want to.

"...You two confuse me." He sighs, tilting his head back. "I suppose I'm jealous, because I haven't got anybody like that. I'm not close enough to anyone to share my secrets with or cry to."

"You can cry to me." I offer and he tries to force back tears. "I'll keep your secret if you keep mine."

"...Chelle... I..." He stammers, trying to process the events of the night. "She's gone... I'm never going to see her again... It doesn't make sense. None of this makes sense."

"I know." I whisper, trying to stay strong for him. "Life's cruel... Sometimes, life doesn't make sense."

"It just hasn't sunk in yet..." He squeezes his eyes shut as a single tear rolls down his cheek. "I mean... She was never around all that much, usually in Spain, but when she was... I can't believe I'm talking about this in past tense... What am I going to tell Kate? How am I supposed to help her? Kate's too young... Mum was too young."

"Come here." I fight to stop myself from crying as I pull him into me, feeling his tears staining through my top. "I'm here for you. We're all here for you. I promise you that."

 **Carla**

"Here." Liam passes me a glass and I observe it, gingerly.

"Is that vodka or water?" I check.

"Drink it." He says, softly and for some reason I obey his orders, taking a sip and retrieving my answer. "You alright?"

"Mm." I nod, leaning back against the kitchen cupboards and I can tell his gaze is held on me. I turn my head to face him and our eyes meet momentarily before he looks away. "Paul hates me. I don't know what I've done. It's like all of a sudden he's grown up and I suddenly disgust him."

"You don't disgust him." Liam sighs.

"I disgust most people." I mutter. "Paul, your parents, my mam, George, my teachers, Johnny, Aidan, you."

"Not me." The words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them and I turn to look at him again. "I mean, you do my head in yeah. Can't stand you sometimes but... I'll always look after you. Even though I know you don't need it."

"...And what happens when you get out of here, ey?" I ask, quietly. "You leave sixth soon, you've got a job. If you've got any sense you'll be out of here as soon as the opportunity arises. Difference is, Lee, you could do it... What have I got? No achievements, no grades, no job. I'm gonna end up just like my mam... I'll be stuck here forever, and you won't be around to look after me then."

"I've got to stick around anyway, for Chelle." He tells me and I stare down at the worn kitchen tiles.

"Nah, you'll all do well. In the end." I whisper, my heart breaking at the realisation as I say it. "Chelle's clever, I'll lose her and all."

"You're not your mam." Liam says, and I scoff slightly. Although it was probably the most touching thing he could say to me right now, because I knew deep down I was. I knew I was destined for the same things she got; poverty, beatings, alcoholism. All this hard exterior, the flirting, the make-up, the threats, it was all just to cover up the fact that I was so weak.

"Don't try to save me, Liam." I warn him, my voice low. "Save yourself. You've got a lot more of a chance."

"You don't need saving." He replies, and I meet his gaze, my eyes searching his. He was staring at me so intently and meaningfully I almost believe his words. "You've just convinced yourself that you do."

"Car, where's mam?" Rob's voice cuts through our conversation and I snap my head back around reluctantly.

"I don't know." I shrug, not bothered in the slightest about her whereabouts. I regretfully leave Liam's side, heading back out into the living room and checking the clock on the wall. Ten to five, something told me I wouldn't be making it to school tomorrow. Then again, when did I ever? "Anyone seen mam?"

"Like you even care." Paul drones, sitting on the floor and leaning back against the sofa, weighing up the whiskey between his hands.

"Well unless you want her falling asleep on your floor, I'd better get her home." I reply, bitterly.

"Don't let us stop you." Paul mutters and I eye him up for a moment as he meets my gaze.

"What have I done to you?" I suddenly snap and he looks taken-aback, as do Helen and Barry. "I dented your pride, in that hotel room. Is that it? Because trust me you said a lot worse things."

"Hotel room?" Helen repeats, confused, but I can hardly hear her as I stare at him so intently.

"Now is not the time." He warns me, his voice low and I force a sarcastic smile.

"Never is with you, is it?" I retaliate. "Only when you want me in bed."

"...In bed?" I hear Helen again and Paul shakes his head at me. I was actually that unappealing to him. When a few months ago he was practically begging me to choose him over Michelle and Liam. "Paul..."

"...Outside. Now." Paul points to the front door, getting up and I hesitate before following after him. The cooler air of the balcony hits me, as my eyes fall upon where Aidan and Michelle were leant up against the wall. Michelle looks at us awkwardly, figuring out the situation before giving me a reassuring smile and tugging Aidan back inside, swinging the door closed behind her. "You can't tell mum and dad about us."

"There is no 'us', Paul." I snap, hurt by his need to defend himself from me. "You made that very clear."

"No, _you_ made that very clear." He reminds me. "I gave you an ultimatum."

"An ultimatum?" I scoff. "You practically told me how I felt about everyone."

"And it was the truth, wasn't it?" He snares, getting closer to me. "You're in love with Michelle."

"I am not in love with Michelle." I deny, firmly and I can tell in his expression that he is softening to my words. "I care a damn lot for her, yes. But I'm not in love with her... I couldn't be, even if I wanted to."

"Right." He nods, bluntly. "Well I got a very clear idea of how you feel about me that night, so."

"So that's why you're suddenly trying anything you can to hurt me?" I reply. "Because I didn't want to jump straight into a relationship with you?"

"You don't get hurt." He mutters.

"See this is what I mean, Paul." I suddenly shout. "You don't know me. You don't know how I feel about anything."

"Well then there you go." He retorts, his eyes levelling with mine. "So why try to play happy families?"

"Oh come on, we both know that our mess of a family will never be happy." I snap.

"You're not my family." He whispers, aggressively. "You're not remotely related to any of us. Not me, or Michelle, or Liam. Or Johnny, or Aidan, or Kate. You're just some dirty kid who tagged along with us and we were stupid enough to take pity on you and your waster of a mother."

"You shut up now." I slap him clean around the face and he holds his cheek, slowly moving his head back to it's original position. I force back tears. I refused to cry in front of Paul Connor. "You know what, you will never understand how I feel. You'll never understand how people's words can actually affect me. But I'll tell you this for nothing. You three, you're the reason I'm still fucking here today. So yeah, we may not be family, and I'm sorry the idea disgusts you as much as it does. But when you all go on to do amazing things, and you're running your own business and Liam is married to little miss perfect, and Michelle is happy. I'll still be here. Or on the streets. Or perhaps I'll be beaten and bruised by George. Or I'll have jumped off the nearest bridge. And the one thing I'll remember, through everything, is you three. So you can be as horrible as you like to me, but I'll never forget you, and I'll never stop appreciating the fact that I once knew you."

I stare at him for a moment, ready to turn around and run away, leave Rob to sort mam out. But all of a sudden he has grabbed me, and he's kissing me. His hands are strong in my hair, passion and anger and desperation conveyed through his kiss. I don't pull away. I let him kiss me and I kiss him back, because if anybody was offering me affection, I'd take it, if it meant remotely enabling myself to feel something that wasn't pain and neglect and emptiness. He pins me back against the balcony, the intensity of the kiss building, my hands gripping his neck as I feel his body against mine. I felt so stupid and weak for allowing him to have this intimacy with me when two minutes ago he had been slagging me off, the 'dirty kid' he could take advantage of whenever he wanted. But I don't get to dwell on these thoughts for much longer and neither do I get to soak up the lust that is building between us, because I can suddenly hear the hushed sound of mam's slurred tone. Accompanied by another familiar voice. My head turns in that direction, breaking our kiss as Paul does the same.

"You're drunk." Johnny's voice becomes apparent and I struggle to understand why he was making the effort to talk to mam. "Then again when are you not?"

"Johnny I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Mam begs him, her tone frail and I let go of Paul, slipping around the corner with him following after me.

"Sorry for what?" I ask, and she practically jumps out of her skin when she sees me leaning up against the wall, folding my arms. Johnny glances at my shiftily, before looking back at her.

"Uh... Nothing sweetheart." Johnny shakes his head and I narrow my eyes. Sweetheart. When had anybody ever called me that? "She was saying, she's sorry about Lou..."

"Right." I nod, unconvinced but knowing now wasn't the time to pick a fight with Johnny Connor. "Well for the record, I'm sorry too."

"Thanks." He responds bluntly. He'd been crying, I could tell, but then again who could blame him? I shift my gaze to where mam was staring at the floor, smudged mascara or dark circles under her eyes, probably a mixture of both. She tilts her head to look at me. No love. No care. Nothing. Just self-loathing and pity. Paul was right; she was a waster. I'd give him that one.

"I'm going home." I mutter, turning and strutting past Paul as I reopen the flat door to the Connor's. "Rob? I'm goin'."

"Hold on." Michelle stops me, practically piling me into her bedroom and closing the door. "What's going on with you and Paul?"

"Nothing." I respond, which to be honest was mostly true. Had we not been interrupted however, it might have been a different story.

"Things looked quite heated." She tells me and I lean back against the door. "Has he said something to upset you?"

"Oh Chelle, it's not the school playground." I scoff slightly. "When do people not say things to upset me?"

"Well I'd like to think I don't." She shrugs.

"Yes well it's fine." I play with the friendship bracelet on my wrist and I can tell she's watching me intently.

"Something has upset you." She guesses.

"Lou." I just mutter, avoiding her gaze and feeling quite guilty about the fact I'd used that to cover things up.

"You hardly knew the woman." She points out.

"Yes well neither did you." I snap, and she looks taken-aback. "Doesn't mean we can't be sad."

"What has Paul said to you?" She persists, not buying my excuses.

"Oh I don't have to tell you everything, Michelle." I retort as she takes a step closer to me, showing that she wasn't backing down. "You're not my counsellor, it's my life, not yours."

"No but when you're upset, it affects my life." She tries to stop herself from shouting.

"Oh yeah? Well that won't last long." I retaliate. "Because in five years time you'll have completely forgotten who I am. So to be honest, I'd just give up if I were you. All of you. I'm not worth your care."

"Yes you are!" She exclaims, coming closer to me so we were only inches away from each other. "You are..." She trails off. I see her eyes dart down to my lips momentarily, before she realises what she is doing and looks back into my eyes. "I'd never forget you..." We stare at each other, as I let out a long sigh, taking in every element of her face, her sea green eyes, the soft dark hair that falls just below her shoulders. She hesitantly tilts her head forwards, so our lips graze each other momentarily, before placing a soft kiss upon mine. My eyes flicker closed as I return it, kissing her lower lip briefly, before opening them again to look at her. We continue to watch each other for a moment, wondering what we were both doing, before I gently smooth my fingers up the silky skin of her arm, moving in again to kiss her gently. It was so sweet and caring, the polar opposite to what I had experienced ten minutes prior to this moment with Paul. My head was so mashed. I was so exhausted, so was she. I knew we'd regret this in the morning.

I move my hand to her hair, feeling it fall upon my fingers, as she places a hand on my cheek, pulling her body further towards mine. Her tongue flickers against mine briefly, as I let her in, continuing to affectionately embrace one another.

We didn't even proceed any further, we just kiss for about five minutes, enjoying the fact that we could, relishing the fact we cared so much for one another. Until eventually, I reluctantly pull away, and she stares back at me with slight embarrassment at her actions.

"...I've got to go." I mumble, wiping my mouth with my hand as if it would erase the past few minutes.

"You can stay the night?" She offers, and I don't even think she means it in any relation to the embrace we have just shared, but either way, it wasn't safe to do so. As much as I wished I could.

"No." I shake my head, walking past her.

"I'm sorry." She whispers and it stops me in my tracks, turning to look at her. "I was out of order then. I think... I'm just tired and confused."

"And drunk." Is all I respond with, and I want nothing more than to grab her again and kiss her, feel the warmth against my lips, the love. But it wasn't fair on either of us, especially when we were in the state we were. "...See you."

"When?" She checks, longingly.

"Tomorrow." I shrug, unable to tear my gaze away from her weakened expression. "Probably. Get some sleep, you look shattered."

"You too." She murmurs and I nod, before turning and opening her bedroom door. As soon as I am the other side of it, I lean up against the battered wood, raising a hand to my lips. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out my thoughts and urges, sliding my other hand down the doorframe.

"We going then?" Rob's voice snaps me out of my thoughts and my eyes immediately open, staring back at him.

"Uh, yeah." I cough, retaining my casual posture and he eyes me up cautiously.

"Everything alright?" He checks and I nod, pointing to the door and immediately following him out.

"Is everything ever alright?" I sigh, closing the door behind us and heading back along the grotty balcony towards the stairs. "Is everything ever anything but a complete mess?"


	7. Falling At Your Feet

**Chapter 6:**

 **Carla**

"Hi." I jump slightly at the sound of Michelle's voice, before taking another drag of my cigarette, leaning up against the wall of the gym. "I didn't imagine you'd be in today."

"Yeah well, anything beats sitting at home listening to mam cry." I shrug, offering her the cigarette.

"Thought you might be avoiding me." She mutters, pausing before taking it from my grip and dragging on it, blowing a long stream of smoke into the air around us. "I went round to yours yesterday, you weren't there."

"Well I'm old enough to leave the flat, Chelle." I respond, sarcastically. "I was in town."

"Doing what?" She persists. "My brother?"

"Funny." I scoff slightly, taking it back from her and breathing in the intoxicating fumes. "No. I was just walking around."

"I'd have come with you." She replies and I discreetly roll my eyes. "Although, it seems like you didn't want me there. So you could hold off talking about the other night, ey?"

"What happened the other night?" I take another drag, desperate not to have this conversation now. "Oh yeah, Lou died."

"That's not what I was referring to." She tells me and I roll my head across the wall to finally look at her.

"It was a kiss, Michelle." I drop my cigarette, stamping it out on the broken slabs with weeds growing between them. "We hardly got married, did we?"

"Do friends usually kiss each other?" Michelle raises her eyebrows, testing me. "Like that?"

"I wouldn't know. I haven't got any others." I jibe and she sighs, leaning her head back as I take in her worn expression.

"Why's your mam been crying, anyway?" She narrows her eyes, staring off into the distance, and by distance, I meant the overgrown mess that lay behind the gym block. "She only met Lou a few times."

"Any excuse to wallow in it." I shrug and she tilts her head to the side, agreeing with my comment. "When's the funeral?"

"Tuesday, apparently." She informs me. "Why, are you going to come?"

"Depends whether I've got any other plans." I mutter and she shoots me a look. "What?"

"Aidan and Kate have lost their mum!" She exclaims.

"I know that." I retaliate. "Sorry for trying to lighten the mood a little."

"She's dead, Carla." She lowers her voice. "You really can't lighten the mood."

"See you then!" I shout as she storms off, and I debate going after her to apologise, deciding against it.

"Alright?" Dean leans up against the fence opposite and I stare at him, blankly.

"What do you want?" I stupidly ask as he produces a lighter from his pocket, attempting to light up and failing.

"Uh, a cigarette." He points out and I watch him battle with his lighter before reluctantly handing him mine. He takes it gratefully, hovering it over the end and taking a puff, before handing it back to me. "Cheers." I watch him for a moment, wondering whether he actually wanted to make conversation, before lighting another cigarette of my own. "You look fit."

"I know." I respond, sharply and he grins, shaking his head slightly. "Anyway, it's Michelle you're interested in, isn't it?"

"Who knows." He shrugs, playing it cool. "Why, do you need to grill me about what my intentions are towards her?"

"Yeah if you like." I smile slightly. "Why don't you just ask her out and get it over with?"

"Because I'm still making up my mind." He tells me, winking cheekily and I narrow my eyes. "Besides, I don't want my dignity to be dented if she rejected me."

"Oh yeah, it's all about egos with you lot." I nod, knowingly. "Well if you're gonna be like that I suggest not bothering. She's too precious to be messed around."

"Careful, people will start thinking you're interested and all." He points out and I roll my eyes, deciding not to insert that a lot of people already did.

"She's family." I sigh, taking another drag and releasing the smoke through the corner of my mouth. The bell sounds and neither of us make the effort to move.

"You're not really though, are you?" He reminds me and this annoys me; acting as if he knew so much about our set-up. "Like Liam says, you just latched on."

"Liam said that?" I can't help feeling slightly hurt and he shrugs, awkwardly, realising he may have spoken out of turn. "...Yeah well got to survive one way or another."

"Fancy getting out of here?" He suggests, as he produces a bag of pills from his pocket. I stare at them longingly, wondering if anybody would even care if I took the lot. Michelle, Rob, that was about the last of it. I'd say Liam, but it seemed he held similar opinions to his older brother. "Or are you bursting to get to sex education or whatever you've got on your timetable."

"Don't bother with sex ed." I mutter and he raises his eyebrows. "Pointless."

"Well it is when you know it all already, yeah." He studies me, a subtle dirty smile on his face and his comment doesn't phase me. "Who needs textbooks when you're Carla Donovan?"

"You don't know anything about me." I keep my voice hushed, as much as I'd like to slap the stupid grin off his face. "Typical slag, bet that's what you've heard on the block."

"I'm not judging." He holds his hands up, drumming the packet against his fingers. "You just look like you could do with some cheering up."

"What with some dodgy pills?" I take them from him, inspecting them. "Greta?"

"I have my sources." He shrugs, glancing at them protectively as if I was going to leg it.

"Two of these and you'd be high off your head." I pass them back to him and he looks impressed at my knowledge.

"You clearly pay attention in PSHE, then." He guesses.

"No, learned that the hard way and all." I correct him, as he stamps his cigarette out. "Ok, if you really want to slum it with me, where we going?"

* * *

"Truth or dare?" Dean takes a sip from the bottle of vodka he was clinging onto, as I lie on my front, my arms folded beneath my head on the floor of the treehouse.

"That's kind of boring with two people." I point out. "...Truth, because you'll just make me take another one of those or show you my tits."

"Ok..." He narrows his eyes, leaning back against the crooked wall and contemplating my fate. "How many people have you really slept with?"

"That's your best truth?" I raise my eyebrows. "I don't know, five, six maybe."

"And the rest." He grins and I throw a dirty cushion at him defensively.

"That's the truth!" I exclaim, and he nods, clearly not believing me. "Ok, your turn."

"Truth." He sighs, reluctantly.

"Have you got feelings for Michelle?" I have my question readily prepared.

"How did I know that was coming?" He rolls his eyes and I stare at him expectantly. "She's alright."

"That doesn't answer my question." I tell him. "Honestly, you blokes, everything is just alright. Cars; alright. Girls; alright. Sex; alright."

"Ok, well she's a nice girl." He adapts his response and I wait for something further. "I do care about her."

"A simple yes or no will do the trick." I groan, sitting up.

"Yes, then, yes." He mutters, taking another long gulp from the bottle as if it was such a strain to admit to.

"Was she good in bed?" I ask, for a reason beyond my knowledge.

"Uh, I've done my truth thanks." He holds his hands up.

"Oh answer the question." I persist.

"...She was a bit rigid, but overall yeah, I'd give her a seven, to start with." He explains. "Maybe an eight at a push."

"It was her first time." I tell him, although I was sure Michelle wouldn't thank me for it.

"I could tell." He responds.

"It's a big thing for her, you should feel honoured." I mutter. "She must like you."

"I am." He swallows, his voice seeming genuine. "I wouldn't have pushed her, if she didn't want to."

"Good." I reply, bluntly, as the door to the treehouse swings open and Michelle enters, taking in the sight in front of her.

"Oh..." She frowns, clearly confused at what she had been faced with. Her eyes fall to the pills on the floor and she scoops them up abruptly. "What the hell are these?" She demands, looking at me protectively and forgetting to acknowledge Dean.

"Chelle, chill out." I tell her.

"How many have you taken?" She snaps, studying my face, as if the answer would be written into my dark circles.

"Uh, who are you, my mother?" I raise my voice slightly.

"Thankfully not." She throws them back down on the floor and Dean looks taken-aback at her outburst. "Because I actually care about you."

"Thanks for that." I mutter, pointing to Dean. "You're making a show of yourself in front of your boyfriend."

"Oh shut up." She snaps, storming back out again. The crooked wooden mess of a treehouse shakes precariously as she climbs to the bottom, and I glance at Dean, a look of surprise on his face.

"...Feisty." He mutters, nursing the bottle between his hands.

"Yeah, that's what you're letting yourself in for." I slide myself down the wall, picking up the bag and flicking it against my fingers.

"Want another?" He points to the bag I am holding and I actually debate it for a moment.

"Like I said, two and we wouldn't make it home." I decide and he eyes me up.

"Maybe I don't want to make it home." He dares to input, and I hesitate, watching the dirty expression on his face.

"You're barking up the wrong tree mate." I stand up, going to leave. "Literally."

 **Michelle**

"So only Will and Laura have handed in their essays on the dangers of global warming." My geography teacher recites. "Two out of eighteen students. Do you all want to fail your exams?" He asks the group of unresponsive people, as I doodle on the notepad in front of me. "Michelle Connor? Maybe you'd like to answer on behalf of everyone."

"Not really." I respond, not even lifting my head from my drawing. "But I can answer on behalf of myself and the response would be that my geography exam is on the bottom of my interest list, along with the colour of George's boxers." There is an eruption of laughter at my remark, and everybody points at George, who pulls his trousers up defensively.

"Wit and popularity will get you nowhere, Miss Connor." He rolls his eyes, trying to quieten the class, as the bell rings and I stand up, ignoring his comment. "A word, please, Michelle."

"Which one?" I return, finally looking at him and I'm surprised he doesn't look fuming at my attitude. I sigh, going over to him as the class exits, slinging my bag over my shoulder. "Yep?"

"I will not have this kind of behaviour in my classroom." He tells me, firmly.

"Ok well I won't show up next time then." I respond, bluntly.

"Your friends aren't here now." He points out. "You don't have to try and impress them."

"I'm not trying to impress anyone." I assure him. "And they're not my friends. None of them are my friends."

"I understand why you're finding things difficult at the minute." He tries to phrase it gently and I stop fidgeting with the pens on his desk, looking up at him.

"Oh yeah?" I sass him, folding my arms defensively. "And why's that?"

"Your auntie's death, or whatever relation she is to you." He responds, trying to sound sympathetic.

"She's not my auntie, barely knew her." I correct him, looking him dead in the eyes. "The only time I really saw her was the annual trip to the grotty caravan her and Johnny liked to call a 'holiday'."

"Well, still." He continues, ignoring my life story. "You're close to your cousin Aidan and it's hit him hard."

"You seem remarkably well informed on my life, Mr Willis." I snap, leaning back against his desk and glancing at the clock on the wall. "Look, sorry for offending the geography syllabus, ok?"

"You're a bright girl, Michelle." He tells me. "You could do well."

"Here?" I raise my eyebrows. "In this dump?"

"This is just the surroundings." He replies. "Your estate, just the surroundings. It doesn't mean you have to fit in with it."

"I'm sure I can make my own decisions, thanks." I finish, before leaving the classroom, swinging the door closed behind me. I am about to head down the corridor, before I notice some guy from my class, staring at me from the opposing wall. "Can I help you?"

"That was pretty impressive, what you did in there." He replies, which makes it clear he was waiting for me, and subsequently makes my tummy churn at the thought.

"...Right." I respond. "What did I do exactly?"

"You're just fiery." He shrugs and I narrow my eyes.

"And that's impressive?" I raise my eyebrows at him. "Well I'll add it to my CV, cheers for the heads up." I go to walk past him and to my distaste, he follows after me.

"Will Chatterton." He relays, and I stop again, huffing as I place my hands on my hips.

"Oh yeah, essay boy." I nod, remembering the two names that had been praised earlier on. "Well then I think you're impressive, for actually handing in a piece of homework. You might do well in life, lucky you."

"You don't think I'm a swat?" He grins, swinging his briefcase, which just makes me wonder why he was even at this school, if he owned one of those.

"I never said I didn't." I reply, and he laughs at my sarcasm. "So, what? Why are you stalking me? Or are you just into that kind of thing?"

"Just thought you might want to chat." He shrugs and I narrow my eyes at him, trying to work out if he was being serious. I didn't know whether I was flattered, that a decent guy was actually talking to me, or disgusted for... Well, the same reason.

"Well, that's a nice thought." I force a smile. "But I don't, thanks."

"Oh ok." He holds his hands up, as I strut past him, and yet he continues to follow me outside as I head towards the exit of the school.

"You're beginning to annoy me now, William." I insist, continuing to walk and not looking back.

"Well I'm heading in the same direction." He points out. "I'm hardly going to take a longer route, just so I don't annoy you, am I? Especially if you're so rude to me."

"It's a free country." I shrug, reaching the school gates and stopping, turning to face him again. "Right well, see you then."

"Who said I'm not going the same way as you?" He persists.

"The briefcase in your hand." I point out. "And if you feel the need to carry that, you definitely live nowhere near my estate."

"Oh you live on the estate?" He nods, as if it was now obvious.

"Red lights flashing?" I guess. "Speed date's over now you know I'm one of the scummy ones, hey?"

"Glad to know it was a date." He grins, cockily, which I annoyingly found attractive. "Shame, I won't be invited around for tea and biscuits then on date two."

"Why? Just because I live in a council flat?" I raise my eyebrows, not offended by this in the slightest. "You think we can't afford tea bags?"

"Oh so that's a maybe to the second date then?" He points at me, playfully and I force myself not to smile.

"That's a flat out 'no' to the second date." I assure him. "Find somebody who does write their essays on the dangers of global warming or whatever the hell it was."

"It's actually really interesting." He tells me, as if I was going to suddenly show a keen interest in the subject.

"Unlike this conversation then." I sigh, checking my nails. "Can I go now?"

"I never said you couldn't, you're the one still stood here talking to me." He makes a point of it, scuffing his feet on the tarmac. "Right well, I'll see you in our next geography lesson then."

"Except you probably won't, because I'll most likely be in isolation after today." I pre-warn him. "So it was nice knowing you anyway."

"I'm pleased it was nice." He returns, watching as I turn my back on him.

"Bye, William." I call, not looking back as I head off up the street, knowing his eyes were fixated on me as I leave.

* * *

"Hey." My bedroom door opens slowly and Liam enters, sitting himself down on the bed as I adjust my earrings. "You look nice."

"Hardly." I mutter, staring at myself in the mirror. "It's a funeral, can people even look nice?"

"Take the compliment, Chelle." He manages a small smile and I turn to look at him. "You alright?"

"I'm fine." I nod. "Aidan and Kate on the other hand... This is going to be the worst day of their lives. Well, second worst."

"Sit by me?" He asks and I raise my eyebrows at him. "Don't leave me sat by Carla, please."

"Carla will hopefully be at the back of the church." I reply. "Or in the graveyard, where she can't cause trouble."

"I'm more worried about the wake." Liam stresses. "Sharon going?"

"No clue." I pull a face. "Let's hope she's otherwise engaged."

"With a bag of cocaine." Liam mutters and I glare at him. "Sorry."

"Come here." I sigh, going over and adjusting his tie. He clearly had little practice at tying one, as it was rare we had an occasion to wear smart clothing. "That's better. Don't want you letting the side down."

"Does it scare you? Death?" He suddenly asks and I narrow my eyes sitting down next to him as he clasps my hand in his. "Like, do you ever think about how you'll die?"

"...Cheery conversation." I mutter, looking down into my lap.

"Well it is a funeral." He points out and I turn my head to look at him.

"Sometimes." I shrug. "When I'm made to climb to the edge of the quarry, I sometimes see my life flash before my eyes."

"I wonder how old we'll live to." Liam contemplates.

"You'll probably live forever." I scoff slightly. "Can't get rid of you."

"Oh thanks." He shoves me playfully and I laugh, as the door opens and mum stands in the doorway, staring at us fiercely. We immediately stop playing around and Liam stands up abruptly.

"Today is not a day for laughing and joking." She tells us and I glance at Liam awkwardly. "The hearse has arrived."

"The hearse?" Liam repeats. "That almost makes us sound posh."

"Liam!" I hiss, under my breath.

"I want no funny behaviour from either of you." She scolds us, lowering her voice so dad can't hear. "Today is a mark of respect, make sure you obey that."

"Yes, we will." Liam sighs. "What do you think we're going to do?"

"Just copy Paul." She huffs, closing the door and Liam pulls a face.

"Ooh sorry we aren't all like precious baby number one." Liam imitates and I nudge him, trying to hold back laughter. "Stick with me, kid. We'll get through this."

* * *

"Do you need any tissues?" Mum passes them down the row, to where I am sat next to Liam on the end.

"I'm sure I'll be good, ta." Liam mutters, pushing them away, before looking at me. "You won't need any, will you?"

"Doubt it." I shrug. "But you can never know how these things will make you feel, can you?"

"Well yeah, I suppose-" Liam begins, before looking straight past me as the pew door opens. I turn my head in the same direction, swallowing as Carla slides in next to me, looking gorgeous. Her hair was tied back in a surprisingly classy ponytail, and she had actually made an effort with her make-up, a tight, tasteful black dress encasing her figure.

"Hi." She smiles at me, despite the lack of conversation we have had over the past few days, and I just stare back at her. "We need to talk after."

"Glad you could make it." Liam mutters, sarcastically, clearly not hearing her comment. However I do notice he can't stop looking at her, and I know exactly why, which I hate myself for.

"What are you doing here?" Paul peers past mum, from further up and I glare at him.

"It's a funeral, Paul." I snap, under my breath. "You're not a security guard."

"Stop with the bickering right now." Mum hushes us, as Carla stares straight ahead, hands clasped in her lap.

"No Rob?" Liam continues to question and Carla shakes her head. "Or adoring mother of yours? That's a shame."

"Shut it." I nudge Liam and he ruffles my hair playfully, as the ceremony begins. I follow everybody as they stand up, turning to look at the coffin that is being brought down the aisle, a mournful looking Kate and Aidan holding Johnny's hands, as they follow after it. If anything was going to upset me today, it was seeing Kate so lost and confused about the whole thing. She was far too young to have to deal with something as cruel as this. I force myself not to cry about something I felt selfish for, holding back tears and I feel Carla's fingers link with mine, as she continues to stare ahead. I clasp her hand tightly, as they hang between us, turning my head to face her sullen expression. She actually looked serious for once, as if it had suddenly hit her, and yet she'd met the woman less times than me. She can tell I'm watching her, because her head tilts in my direction, flashing me a warm smile as Aidan slips into the booth in front of us, putting his arm around Kate protectively and I take the liberty of sitting down, with the rest of the congregation. Carla doesn't allow her hand to slip away from mine, resting it on the bench between us, and I relish the sense of comfort.

"We are here today, to celebrate the life of Louise Connor." The vicar recites. "A loving wife to Johnny, and mother to children Aidan and Kate." He continues, as there is suddenly a thud from the back of the church, and several heads turn in the direction.

"Oh no, no." Carla mutters, putting her head in her hands briefly, as I watch Sharon fall against one of the pews at the back of the church, hip flask in hand. "Why?"

"Oh brilliant." Liam scoffs, and I notice how everybody down the row is staring at Carla, disapprovingly. "I thought the entertainment was for the wake?"

 **Carla**

"I'm so sorry." I whisper to Michelle, immediately getting up and hating the fact I was yet again making a scene, as I pace down the aisle, everybody staring at me. "Out now." I snap, under my breath, pointing to the doorway. "Get out."

"Carla, I just need to..." She slurs, staring at the congregation, completely bewildered. "I just want to sit and watch."

"Mam, go." I shove her, trying to get her to move, as I glance behind me. Even the vicar had stopped talking at the drama, and I notice Michelle's concerned glance, amongst the sea of other disapproving faces. Of course she would be the only one who wouldn't judge me for this, because obviously, this was my fault, as always.

"I need to say sorry." She begs me, her voice getting louder. "Sorry, sorry Johnny, sorry."

"Shut up." I hiss, practically carrying her out of the church and throwing her against the wall when we get outside. "What the hell are you playing at?"

"I need to say sorry." She repeats again, taking another gulp from her hip flask as she slides down the wall, completely wasted and I tear it from her grip, hurling it into the distance. "Sorry."

"Sorry for what?" I snap, as she lolls her head to the side. "Oi!" I slap her across the face, refraining from doing it too hard, and her eyes widen again, staring at me. I realise how big her pupils are, studying her for a moment. "What have you taken?" I raise my voice slightly, to get her attention. "Mam, what have you taken?"

"Oh everything." She murmurs, closing her eyes briefly. "Sorry Lou."

"Sorry Lou?" I repeat, completely confused about what she was banging on about. I sigh, scanning the surroundings; nothing but gravestones and overgrown trees. "You're a mess."

"You don't think I know that? Carla." She drones, and I kneel down next to her.

"Why would you come here?" I persist, clicking my fingers in her face and checking her pockets, pulling a bag of pills out of it and scoffing. "Oh brilliant. And how much did these cost you?"

"They're mine, they're mine." She insists, as I throw them down into the floor, stamping on them.

"I hate you." I practically spit in her face, so close I can smell the lingering alcohol on her breath. "I really, really hate you."

"I know that." She actually moves her head to look at me, staring at me like she hadn't in ages. "I don't blame you. But I just, need to tell you. Today... I need to say sorry. To you and to-"

"What the 'ell is going on?" I hear Rob's voice and spin around, as he approaches us, cap secured on his head as always.

"Well aren't you dressed for the occasion?" I glare at him.

"I'm not here for that." He mutters, picking mam up, who is slowly becoming more limp. His eyes drift down to the packet on the floor and he picks it up, desperately. "You did that?"

"Rob, she took drugs into a fucking church!" I retaliate.

"As if we're strict Christians." He scoffs, waving the packet in my face. "Could have sold these on."

"I've just been completely humiliated in there." I tell him, my voice cracking. "By that mess. Everybody in there is judging me."

"Oh not everything is about you Carla. You've got to learn that." Rob responds, bitterly. "Surprisingly, I think they're thinking about other things."

"One time." I snap, at the pair of them, although I'm sure mam is past the stage of hearing me clearly. "One time I wanted to be normal, for an hour, without somebody ruining it. I wanted to sit there, and think."

"About what?" He actually laughs at me. "You didn't know the woman!"

"I know her family." I snap.

"Like you give a shit about Aidan." He prompts me, mam draped over his shoulder. "You can't stand the kid."

"Like you said, today isn't all about me." I lower my voice. "Or her. Or you. Or any of us. Take her home."

"Like I always do." He calls after me as I turn back towards the church. "You get lost and leave me to it. I'll try and keep her alive for another day."

"I try my hardest for the pair of you." I run back towards him, shoving my finger in his face. "You wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for me. You'd be long gone. So don't you give me that."

"Yeah? Well maybe you shouldn't have carried me." He replies, and I'm shocked by this. "Maybe I'd rather be long gone. Anything is better than this. Anything." He finishes, carrying mam off towards the gates, and I watch him go, moving back to sink down the wall, crouching in a ball on the hard concrete, in the cold autumn air.

 **Michelle**

"Here." Liam slips me a glass and I study it.

"What even is that?" I eye it up, warily, sat on a table out of the way of everybody else.

"Tequila." He replies.

"What a responsible brother you are." I roll my eyes, taking a long gulp from the glass all the same and wincing at the taste. "Lovely..."

"Oh here she is." Liam grins at the doorway and I turn my head to see Carla shiftily entering, sitting down next to me. "Just when things were getting dull again."

"You alright?" I check, placing a hand on her arm and she nods firmly. "How come you didn't come back to the service?"

"Wasn't my place." She shrugs. "Nobody wanted me there and it'd have been too embarrassing anyway."

"It's not your fault." I try to reason with her, even though I knew she wouldn't believe me.

"Haven't you caused enough damage for one day?" Paul asks, dropping his glass of whiskey down on the table and sitting down next to Liam.

"Oh shut up, Paul." I dare to say, and he gives me a warning look.

"Want a drink?" Paul offers her, and she looks surprised at his willingness.

"I can get my own." Carla sighs, pulling a dodgy looking fiver out of her bra and standing up.

"You won't get served here, babe." Paul insists, and she raises her eyebrows at him.

"Want to bet?" She dares him and he actually looks amused as she approaches the bar. I watch her lean up against it, so effortlessly and casually, as she talks to the barman.

"No way." Liam exclaims as she returns with a glass of red wine, sliding into the chair next to me.

"Pay up." Carla holds her hand out, and Paul can't help looking impressed at her tactics.

"Fair play." He shrugs, handing her a ten pound note, unable to conceal the shock in her expression.

"Paul, I was joking." She hands it him back.

"You're really turning down a tenner?" He laughs and she kicks him under the table, taking it from his grasp playfully. "Thought not."

"Well this is fun." I hear Liam mutter, noticing he was staring at Carla the same way I was, and the same way Paul was. How one scruffy girl from the estate had such an impact on the three of us, I didn't know. But she did, and somehow I felt she always would.

 **Carla**

"Knew I could rely on you." Liam snatches the cigarette out of my hand, taking a long drag of it as we lean up against the wall of the pub. "Aren't you cold?"

"Thick skin, me." I respond, staring out at the road, as I had been for the past ten minutes. He hands me the cigarette back, and I flick the ash off the end, watching it drift to the ground before raising my head to meet the scene in front of me again. "...Do you reckon it hurt? Or do you think it's just shock?"

"What?" He looks in the same direction as me.

"Being hit by a car, at that speed I mean?" I mutter, not thinking about whether it might upset him or not, but it doesn't seem to.

"Can't say it's the way I'd want to go." He responds, as I blow smoke out of the corner of my mouth, watching it twist and turn in the cold air in front of me. "But I guess... The doctors said it was quick... She probably didn't have time to process it."

"Do you reckon they mean that?" I continue, my voice hushed in case there were any relatives of Lou's lingering around the outskirts. "Or just say it, for comfort? I mean, they're hardly going to say she suffered, are they?"

"I thought you were the one with an answer to everything?" He nudges me, and I finally turn my head to look at him, realising he was already staring back at me. The cigarette falls involuntarily from my hand, and I don't move my shoe to put it out. I just continue to look at him; the eyes that were so caring I actually felt safe for a moment. "You look beautiful today." The words slip out of his mouth, and I sigh, my eyes fixated on his.

"Well that's something I never hear." My voice is surprisingly quiet. "Beautiful."

"Well, there you go then." He murmurs. "You've heard it now."

I don't know why I am doing it. But I move my head closer to his, as he does the same, turning slightly into his embrace, the heat of our lips touching before they can themselves.

But that's all it is; heat, because the sound of a glass smashing is what tears us away from one another instantly. As if we were doing something forbidden, and wrong. Which subsequently was seeming to become a trend with his sister and brother as well.

"Oh shit." Michelle exclaims, staring down at the glass she has dropped. "Do you reckon they'll make me pay for that?"

"Um." I cough awkwardly, backing against the wall again and trying to look casual, despite the fact she hadn't seemed to have noticed what was going on before she arrived. "Doubt it."

"What are you doing?" Liam almost sounds frustrated, and she looks up at him.

"Uh, cigarette?" She holds it up, clearly quite tipsy. "Isn't that what you two were doing?"

"Yes, definitely." I respond.

"One hundred percent." Liam adds, abruptly. "That's what we were... Doing."

"Yep." I nod, and she looks confused for a moment, before holding her hand out and I pass her my lighter.

"Don't let Paul see you having that." Liam warns her. "Or worse, mum and dad. I will literally never see daylight again, and neither will you."

"I live life on the edge." She shrugs, taking a drag of it.

"No you don't." I scoff, and she shoves me playfully. "Says the girl who kicked off at me for being anywhere near a bag of pills."

"I was worried about you." She sighs, picking up a half empty glass of bitter off a nearby table and taking a gulp of it.

"Oh, she's proved me wrong." I point at her and she shakes her head, as Liam laughs at my joke. "Careful, Chelle, that could have anything in it."

"So?" She takes another sip and I take it from her grasp, placing it on the window ledge behind me. "Oi."

"Will you take care of her if I pop to the loo?" Liam asks me.

"I'm sure we'll survive." I assure him. "Managed up until this point."

"Chelle, stop drinking." Liam points at her before disappearing.

"You said we needed to talk?" She prompts, as soon as he has left. "What about?"

"...Take a guess." I reply, shifting my heels against the gravel, awkwardly.

"Well I tried that and got my head bitten off." She reminds me and I look up at her, about to open my mouth to say something I didn't even know yet. "You and Dean looked cozy the other day."

"Oh that was nothing, I promise you." I tell her firmly and her eyes search mine for a moment. "Actually we were talking about you, the whole time."

"Really?" She frowns.

"Yeah..." I trail off. "Chelle, listen. I-"

"Well it doesn't matter what or who he does anyway." She shrugs, stamping her cigarette out. "Think I'm in with a chance with somebody else instead."

"...Yeah?" I feel my heart skip a beat, seeing her gazing back at me and forgetting all about Liam and Paul in the moment. It was going to happen again, and this time, I had no obligation to end it. I wanted it, and I hated to admit that to myself, but she looked so gorgeous and I was craving intimacy from somebody who actually cared about me. The only person who gave a damn. "Who?"

"You probably won't know him." She looks away, grabbing the glass off the side and taking a sip, which I don't object to, because I'm stupidly shocked by her response. "Will Chatterton. He's in my geography class."

"Oh right." I respond bluntly. "Wow, got them falling at your feet, haven't you?"

"Hardly." She scoffs, as I take the glass from her, drinking from it myself. "Two people."

"Two." I nod, knowing there were probably many more she wasn't aware of. "So... You gonna go for it?"

"Might play hard to get for a bit." She decides, twirling her hair around her finger, which was annoyingly attractive. "Don't want to seem too keen, you know."

"What about Dean?" I persist, wondering how she could so easily flit between people; she was kissing me last week and having sex with Dean a few months before.

"Oh Dean's showed zero interest in me." She rolls her eyes. "Think he's playing games, I hate that."

"...And so you're just going to play games with somebody else?" I prompt her and she meets my gaze again. "Will, I mean."

"Oh... Well, you know... Just flirting and things." She tries to excuse herself and I lean back against the wall, chewing my lip as I watch her. "This goes no further than here. You got that, Carla Donovan?" She points at me, a small, playful smile creeping over her face and I force myself to return it.

"Promise." I nod hesitantly, before pushing myself off the wall again, my head even more mashed now than when I'd began this conversation. "Right, I need a drink. Come on."

* * *

 _ **Sorry for the delayed update, I'm writing two fics at a time, as well as trying to manage other things. Hope you enjoyed the slightly longer chapter! A lot of drama to come x**_


	8. Cold Heat

**Chapter 7: Cold Heat**

 **Michelle**

"Will you be able to get out Christmas Day?" Carla sips on the bottle of vodka she is holding, sat with her knees pulled up to her chest against the wall of the gym.

"I'll try my hardest." I respond, picking at the weeds that are forcing their way through the concrete, from where I sit opposite her. "For you."

"Yeah well, let me know." She mutters. "Wouldn't want to interrupt Christmas dinner and carols with the Connor's."

"You're welcome to come round, if you want." I offer, looking up at her and she raises her eyebrows at me. "Besides, it's a half price turkey joint that's probably days past it's best before date. Nothing too special."

"Least you'll eat." She shrugs.

"I'll bring you some leftovers." I smile and she rolls her eyes at me.

"I'm not a dog, Chelle." She replies, bitterly. "Although I'm sure some people would argue with me there."

"If you were a dog, you'd be one of those really scary ones." I decide, ripping the weeds between my fingers. "You know, the ones that make you cross over the road if you see one coming the other way."

"And you'd be a small yappy one." She retaliates. "That never shuts up."

"Alright ladies?" I jump suddenly, noticing Carla's head snapping upwards to where Will was leant up against the wall of the gym.

"Oh fucking hell." Carla places a hand to her chest. "Who the hell are you? I thought you were the head then."

"This is Will." I sigh, as he sits down next to me and I shuffle away from him slightly. "Will, Carla. Carla, Will."

"Oh, so you're Will?" She narrows her eyes, offering him the bottle of vodka and he shakes his head. "No, didn't think so. Too posh for shots round the back of the gym, hey?"

"Are all you girls from the estate so rude?" He grins, going to put his arm around me and I shove it off.

"Bet you're gonna grass us up now, aren't ya?" Carla asks him, confidently. "You seem like the type. Bet you've got badges for it; dobbing students in."

"I wouldn't dare." He grins, turning his head to look at me. "You look nice."

"I look the same as I do everyday." I point out, bluntly.

"Exactly." He responds and I try not to smile at his comment.

"Ugh." Carla groans, mimicking a gagging motion before pulling herself up. "I'm going. I'll leave you two love birds to it."

"Please don't." I mutter, and Will just laughs at me as Carla saunters off. "What?"

"You can pretend you're not into me all you like." He nudges me. "But I'm not stupid."

"Evidently." I drone. "You got ninety eight percent in that global warming essay."

"And what did you get in yours?" He teases me and I raise my eyebrows at him. "Let me take you out?"

"Take me out?" I scoff, shoving him playfully. "Take me out where?"

"Wherever you like." He shrugs and I sigh, hating the fact I was tempted by the idea.

"I'll get ripped on for dating you." I say, out loud, immediately regretting it.

"Ooh, dating now." His eyes light up. "Bit forward, Michelle Connor."

"Oh shut up." I narrow my eyes at him. "I don't know... We could go to the chippy or something after school if you want? Oh actually, if my brother is working, maybe not."

"Is he protective?" He guesses.

"No, he'll just make fun of me for hanging around with somebody who carries a briefcase." I tell him and he nods, amused at my humour. "Oh and you're paying by the way."

 **Carla**

I sit cross legged on the grass, poking at the cracked dirt with a stick and flicking the ash off the end of my cigarette. I had started smoking far more than I had been a couple of months ago, partly due to boredom, and partly because it calmed my emotions, which were messing with my head at the moment.

"Can I sit with you?" I hear a familiar voice, looking up to see Aidan staring down at me. I could see the tiredness in his expression, which didn't surprise me, and due to the small ounce of sympathy I held out for him, I just shrug in response.

"Free country." I respond, looking back down at the floor, and he hesitantly sits down opposite me. "...How you holding up?"

"Fine." He mumbles, watching as I pick at the dirt, flicking it further across the field we were in, that lies behind the estate. "It's slowly becoming more real, I guess."

"Slowly things will begin to seem normal again... I don't suppose that's much comfort... Sorry." I try to help him, realising I was doing a rubbish job at it. Like everything. "I say that as if I understand."

"You've been through enough to understand anything." He responds and I look up at him.

"Not that." I assure him. "There's very few people I love enough for it to affect me, like it's affected you." I throw the stick into the distance, before gazing at his sullen expression. "And anyway, most of the stuff I've been through is down to self-loathing anyway."

"How can you hate yourself so much?" He asks, and I have to go over the question several times in my head to process it properly.

"Aidan... I've got nothing. My mum doesn't give a shit about me. My stepdad hates me. I live in the dirtiest, scummiest flat in the estate. Everybody knows it; that I'm that poverty-stricken, neglected, slag." I swallow. "I have no friends. The people I thought were my friends, tell _their_ friends otherwise. I spend my life drinking and smoking, then regret it straight afterwards. I never eat. I never sleep, because my bedroom is too cold and I have the fear that if I close my eyes, I won't wake up again. Even though I don't know why that's a fear, because right now it seems very tempting. I have no future, my education went down the pan a long time ago. I'm destined for the crematorium or the streets, there are no other options." My voice suddenly cracks at the thought, noticing the fear that is conveyed in his face. "Oh God... I'm sorry."

"...You needed to get that off your chest, didn't you?" He assumes and I stare down at the floor, forcing myself not to cry.

"What does it matter? It's not like it'll stop me thinking about it." I mutter, biting my lip so hard I can feel the salty taste of blood invading my mouth. "...Bet you wish you never asked that question now."

"You've got Michelle, Paul, Liam." He lists, trying to help and I sigh, closing my eyes at the thought. "Do you love Paul?"

"No." I respond, without even thinking, and he hesitates.

"Do you love Liam?" He continues.

"...I don't know." I admit, trying to understand these questions myself, as I had been for months, years. I know what's next, before he's even said it.

"...Do you love Michelle?" The words hit me gently.

"Yes." I answer, shocked that I had actually said it and I look up at him, his expression surprisingly understanding. "I don't know in what way, but I do... I do."

"...Then why aren't you with her now?" He questions, his eyes searching mine, as if the answer was so obvious.

"Because she's out with somebody else." I tell him. "...Some soft, well off, poncey guy from her geography class... Why wouldn't you be out with them? They'll probably get together and live happily ever after. Then that'll be me gone, because let's be honest, it was Michelle throwing her stupid pink sparkly ball against the wall that separated our original flats in the first place, that even attached me to you guys. It's all down to Michelle. As soon as she pushes me out, finds somebody better, then reality hits."

"That's not true." He replies. I was unsure why he was being so nice to me, after all the stick I had ever given him. "You're a massive part of our lives, all of us. Dad talks about you all the time."

"Oh yeah? Probably slagging me off like everybody else." I guess and he shakes his head.

"No, he actually cares about you." He says, to my surprise. "Talking about how much he admires you."

"Admires me?" I scoff. "You drunk?"

"I mean it!" He exclaims. "I don't know why he's so attached to you, but he is."

"He hardly knows me." I point out. "And I hardly know him."

"Well... You're always welcome at ours." He tells me, and I raise my eyebrows at him.

"Why are you saying all this?" I ask, kicking my legs out onto the grass. "I'm horrible to you."

"Well maybe we can make a truce that we'll both start being nicer to each other then." He shrugs. "You said yourself, nobody cares about you. So why don't you let me?"

"Because I'm a stubborn cow." I smile slightly, meeting his gaze. "And I thought you were an annoying little prick."

"Thought?" He repeats.

"Well... Everything you've just said and the way you've listened, without judging." I shrug, trying not to be too soft on him. "And the way you've been there for Kate the past few weeks, I've seen you. I guess... Maybe you're not the irritating kid I thought you were. Completely anyway."

"Careful." He grins, cockily and I feel like it might be the first time he's smiled since his mother's death. "I'll start thinking you're soft."

"Do not tell this to anyone." I point at him, playfully and he laughs, before his face goes serious again.

"...You're not going to do anything stupid are you?" He is careful as he phrases it, clearly referring to my earlier speech.

"Not anything I haven't done already." I respond, noting his concern. "I'll be fine. I've managed so far."

 **Michelle**

"Ok so the chips taste like shit." I laugh, as he looks distastefully at his second one, leant up against the brick wall outside the chippy. "But the mushy peas are good."

"Considering how much you down-played it, it's half decent." He shrugs, continuing to eat as I jump up to sit on the wall and he watches me do so, a smug smile on his face.

"What?" I study his expression. "Can't believe you've pulled me?"

"So I have pulled you?" He grins, sitting himself next to me on the wall and I put my head in my hands, groaning. "You're quite cocky aren't you?"

"And you're quite frustrating." I moan into my hands. "When you call me out on everything."

"Not my fault you find me irresistible." He nudges me and I look back at him.

"Yeah, yeah." I roll my eyes, focusing back on him, as he puts the chips down on the wall next to him, turning his head to face me again. I know what's coming next by the way he is looking at me, and it doesn't surprise me that he looks hesitant to do so, as I had deliberately been trying to give him the cold shoulder. But this time I don't. I let him move in and I kiss him back, as he places a hand on the side of my face, brushing the hair away gently. His lips are warm and his tongue flicks against mine affectionately, as I let him in, throwing a hand around his neck and continuing to kiss him for a few minutes.

"Oi, oi sis!" I suddenly pull away from him, my head snapping round to see Liam, staring at me with an excited grin on his face. "What's going on here then?"

"Liam!" I snap, partially because I was shocked, but mainly because he had interrupted what had been the best kiss I had ever had... Or could convince myself it was. "What are you... You're not working today?"

"I'm covering big Smith's shift." He points to the chippy, before folding his arms and observing Will, who actually looks slightly nervous. "So, what are your intentions towards my little sister then? Or do I need to ask that, after what I just saw?"

"Ignore him." I tell Will, glaring at Liam. "I can do what I want, thank you. I don't need your approval."

"Uh, you're still fourteen years old, missy." He reminds me and I roll my eyes, cringing at his protectiveness. "So I hope that's all you're doing."

"Liam, shut up." I hiss, remembering the fact he still had no clue about what went on between Dean and me. "You're so embarrassing."

"I know." He grins, ruffling my hair as he walks past me. "Have fun."

"I am so sorry." I groan, looking back at Will.

"No, it's nice that he looks after you." He shrugs, going slightly awkward now that our kiss had ended so abruptly.

"I don't need looking after." I assure him.

"You're very stubborn, aren't you?" He laughs. "I guess I'll need to get used to that."

"Oh will you now?" I nod, testing him again. "And what are you implying by that?"

"I'm implying..." He avoids my gaze, looking down at the wall. "That I wouldn't mind you being my girlfriend."

"Wow." I bite my lip, trying to stop myself from smiling. "Well, you don't hang about."

"Not with somebody as gorgeous as you, no." He relays and I blush slightly, letting the hair fall over my face. "...You haven't given me an answer."

"Ok, pushy." I smile at him, hesitating to make him wait longer. "Yeah alright, why not."

"Oh how romantic." He scoffs, as I pull him back in, kissing him again.

* * *

"Merry Christmas." Liam pushes my door open, sitting down on the end of my bed and holding out a present.

"You actually bought me something?" My eyes light up as I take it from him. "Or nicked?"

"Uh, I paid for that with my own wages." He tells me proudly. "Thank you."

"Fair enough." I roll my eyes, opening it and pulling out a glass box with a musical note engraved on it. "Shit, Liam. Where the hell did you get this from? It looks expensive."

"Yeah it was." He replies, as I admire it. "Keep it between me and you, yeah. I haven't got Paul anything."

"I haven't got _you_ anything." I bite my lip and he shoves me playfully. "Except the gift of song... While shepherd's watched their-"

"No thanks." He puts a finger to my lips and I glare at him.

"You love my singing!" I argue.

"What did briefcase boy get you then?" Liam's eyes sparkle.

"Don't call him that." I scold him, holding my wrist up to show him the silver bracelet Will had bought me. He raises his eyebrows, inspecting it for a moment.

"Wow... I see why you're with him." He nods, impressively. "I bet that didn't come cheap."

"Well I didn't ask." I narrow my eyes. "He's really not that well off."

"In comparison to us, he is." He tells me. "Still, it's very nice. I'm glad you're happy. We'll see how long he lasts."

"Oh shut up." I nudge him.

"And don't go doing anything until you're sixteen." He warns me, a wrench of guilt tugging in my stomach. "He'll have to wait. If you're that special, he will."

"I can manage my own life, thank you." I respond, more bitterly than anticipated, before sighing and putting his present down on the side. "I won't. Ok? So stop banging on about it. It's Christmas." I wrap a piece of battered, fraying tinsel around his neck. "Enjoy it and be festive."

 **Carla**

"Merry Christmas." Rob mutters as he enters my bedroom, seeing me sat in an oversized t-shirt, cross legged on the bed. I didn't know who it belonged to, maybe Liam or Paul, or just somebody else who had left it behind after escaping immediately after I'd served my purpose.

"Merry Christmas." I manage a weak smile as he sits down on the bed, his hair ruffled. He looks so depressed. I look so depressed. The whole atmosphere of this flat was depressing. Merry fucking Christmas to us.

"Carla, get up." I hear George's voice as he hammers on my door, going quiet for a moment before returning. "Robert, are you in there?" I glance at Rob, standing up confidently and opening the door.

"What do you want?" I ask bluntly, as he peers over my shoulder to see Rob behind me.

"It's Christmas day." He spits, as if we weren't aware. "And you're just gonna camp out in there?"

"Well we're hardly going to sing carols around the fire are we?" I raise an eyebrow, testing him. "Cosy family get together, have you bought a turkey and the trimmings and all?"

"Shut up you ungrateful little shit." He snaps at me, and I silence myself, not having the energy to try and fight back if he made a swing for me. "You got anything? All the shops are shut."

"No." I answer firmly, readily prepared to let him nowhere near the bottle of vodka I had stashed to get myself through today. "Should've thought ahead, shouldn't you?"

"Rob?" He shifts his gaze to him and Rob shrugs. "Well 'ave you or not?"

"I don't think so." He replies and George stares at him fiercely.

"Don't think so?" He moves forwards and I push Rob back, protecting him. "Out. Now. You're not muckin' around in here."

"Where's mam?" I sigh, heading down the corridor and shutting my bedroom door with such force it makes the floor shake.

"Merry Christmas." She sounds from the sofa, her voice hoarse and weak as she sits herself up. Her pupils were huge, her hair was an absolute mess, the stains coating her dressing gown made me want to heave. I sit down on the floor, goosebumps prickling over my skin at the freezing exposure of the living room.

"Say Merry Christmas to your mother." George scolds and Rob goes over to give her an awkward hug.

"Merry Christmas." He mutters, before sitting down next to me.

"...So where's our presents then?" I dare to joke. "Did Santa bring me the My Little Pony I asked for?"

"Santa will bring you a slap in the face in a minute." George threatens and mam looks at him worriedly.

"Don't, Carla." Rob sighs, putting his head in his hands. We all sit in silence for a moment; unsure of what to say to one another, unsure of what we were even doing here.

"I'm going out." I stand up finally, unable to sit in the painful atmosphere that encased us.

"Where?" George snaps, rocking frantically in the rocking chair to try and distract his cold turkey.

"Don't know." I shrug. "Anywhere but here."

"We could kick you out onto the streets!" I hear him shouting after me as I close my bedroom door again, staring at my reflection in the mirror. The dark circles, the bony skeleton, the sullen expression. I disgusted myself. I fall back on the bed, squeezing my eyes shut to try and prevent my thoughts from drifting to the pair of scissors on the cluttered side table. I think of Michelle, over and over, her laughing, her depending on me. It was one of the ways I convinced myself to stop. But I felt so weak. I didn't even have her. Not like I did before. Not now somebody had taken my place.

 **Michelle**

"I've been looking everywhere for you!" I exclaim, as I finally approach where Carla is sat leaning up against a tree behind her block, bottle of vodka in hand. "Merry Christmas babe."

"Yeah." She just responds, staring into the distance. "Having a good day with the family?"

"Not really, only just managed to escape." I tell her, sitting down next to her and observing the lack of liquid left in the bottle she was clasping. "You drank all of that?"

"Yeah." She drones. "I'm drunk."

"...Why don't you come back to ours for a bit, hey?" I suggest, knowing my mum would hate me for it, but Carla came first and right now, she didn't look in a fit state to be alone at all.

"They'd love that." She mutters, still not looking at me, taking another long gulp from the bottle. "No thanks. I'd rather be alone."

"Well you're not now, because I'm here." I place a hand on her arm comfortingly and she jerks it away suddenly, causing me to retract. Her eyes go wide as she suddenly stares at me, before trying to cover it up.

"You're cold." She lies, convincingly enough for anybody but me.

"No, no." I shake my head, holding my hand out, as she stares at me weakly. I knew. She knew. "Carla let me see." I ask gently. "Let me see, it's ok."

"It's not." She panics, and I weave my fingers through her hair gently.

"It is, it's me." I whisper, trying to keep my voice soft despite being gutted. She holds out her arm hesitantly and I peel back the sleeve of her jumper, exposing the scarlet marks on her arm.

"Sorry... Chelle. Sorry." Her eyes brim with tears as I check them over, making sure they were clean before pulling her sleeve back down.

"Don't be sorry, it's ok." I reassure her. "Come here." I pull her head into my shoulder, wrapping my arms around her. "You're freezing sweetheart." I pull my jacket off, wrapping it around her.

"Chelle, you'll be cold." She cries, allowing me to do so anyway.

"I don't care." I let out a slight laugh and she stares at me meaningfully for a moment. "You should have come to find me. You're going to pull through this, we both will. I know it doesn't seem like it now Car."

"I don't want you to leave." She swallows and I shake my head forcefully.

"I promise you I won't." I whisper, linking my finger with mine. "Hey, you're still here. I'm still here. Hashtag blessed."

"Hashtag blessed." She smiles slightly at our saying; whenever we pulled through something that made us doubt the future. "I just feel so lost and unloved." She swallows, gripping the jacket I had given her tightly. "You're so happy. I'm jealous. I'm so happy for you... But I'm jealous. I hate that."

"Jealous of what?" I ask, narrowing my eyes.

"Your happiness..." She trails off, continuing to hold my gaze and I trace her expression. "I'm so drunk." She forces herself to look away, going to take another gulp from the bottle before I put a hand over hers, lowering it, and she stares at our hands for a moment, looking back at me. The desperation and the weakness in her eyes. "Aren't you cold? Have this back."

"Carla I don't care." I assure her for the second time, making sure she kept it over her shoulders. "You need it more than me." I add, and I see her eyes flicker down to my lips for a very brief moment before she realises what she's doing, looking back into my eyes. "So how's it going with you and him then?"

"Alright." I try to sound bright, partially hoping it would ruin the moment we had built up, but it was still there. The thing we were fighting. I didn't know what it was. I didn't know if I ever would.

"Just alright?" She manages a small smile and I can't help thinking how beautiful she looked. Despite the smudged mascara and the tearful eyes and the unbrushed hair that fell softly against her shoulders. She really was beautiful, without even trying to be.

"It's early days." I murmur, trying to keep my voice casual and failing. "It's just one of those stupid kiddie relationships I'll look back on in ten years time and laugh about."

"Careful, he's probably thinking you'll be together forever." She smiles slightly and I return it, her eyes mirroring mine, swallowing the pain she could release now I was here.

"I highly doubt that." I tell her, watching as she lets the bottle slide from her grip, moving her hand to my knee, the sensation sending warm chills down my spine involuntarily. "You're drunk."

"I know." She admits, moving her head closer to mine. "And you're beautiful."

"Don't." I murmur, as her lips graze mine gently.

"Tell me to stop." She whispers, the words soft against my skin, as her hand effortlessly slides up my thigh, allowing her to kiss me gently.

"I'm in a relationship." I remind her as if she didn't know, but the feel of her against me was so tempting, and I felt a lot more lustful about it than I ever had with Will. She pulls away reluctantly, staring at me with pure love and need. I bite down on my lip hard, trying to force myself not to give in.

"...Oh God I'm sorry. I know." She puts her head in her hands and I watch her mentally beat herself up about it. "That was out of order."

"Was it?" I whisper, hating myself for asking the question and we watch each other for a few more seconds, wondering if either of us were going to dare to make another move, before she swiftly stands up, handing me my jacket back and flashing me a warm smile.

"I'm ok." She decides, trying to reassure me. "Honest."

"I think I should walk you home." I stand up, seeing how unsteady she was after consuming so much alcohol. She shakes her head at me, an understanding look on her face and I realise how much I want her to stay here with me. I wanted to stay here all day.

"Michelle I'm ok, I promise. How many times have I been drunk, ey?" She tears her eyes away from mine, beginning to head back towards the estate.

I don't know why I'm doing it. But I drop my jacket, and I grab her hand before she can slip away, pulling her back, a look of shock on her face as she collides with me. I move in to kiss her passionately, my hand slipping beneath her hair, feeling it tickle it softly. She doesn't pull away, she doesn't object. Instead, she pushes me gently up against the tree, her hand falling back to my thigh, running it up my body which causes butterflies to erupt inside me. Why was it like this? I was straight. I knew I was straight. This made no sense. Yet I didn't want it to stop.

I feel her body against mine, neither of us even breaking away for air. This was the most desirable embrace we had ever shared. Her hand moves to my cheek, the coolness of her palm calming the heat that had built between us. She grazes her fingers against my scalp, moving it through my hair and I sigh at the sensation. This was happening. After all the failed attempts and the near-misses. I knew what this was building up to and neither of us wanted it to stop.

"Are you ok?" She pants, pulling away momentarily to look into my eyes, clearly referring to the last time we had got this close. "You'll tell me to stop if you want me to?" She whispers and I nod, knowing deep down that this time I was ready and it wouldn't be an option.

But I don't get the chance to find out.

"Michelle?" I hear Will's voice, Carla instantly snapping away from me as I fall against the tree at the sudden lack of support. "Oh hey. What you doing out here? It's freezing."

"Will!" I snap, my eyes going wide and I try to casually brush my hair down, complete shock overcoming me about the events that had taken place over the last five minutes. "What the hell are you doing here? It's Christmas day."

"Yeah, thought I'd come and surprise you." He finally reaches us, moving in to kiss me which I reluctantly return, pecking him briefly before pulling away. "You taste good."

"Thanks." I mutter, feeling Carla's awkwardness at the mention of the word.

"Have you been drinking vodka?" He asks, clearly tasting it on me and I am about to shake my head, before knowing that would cause more harm than good.

"Yeah." I lie. "Just a bit."

"Looks like you've had most of it." He glances at Carla, who was trying to look casual as she slips her hands into her pockets. "How much have you had? You look stunned."

"Uh, Christmas isn't all that festive for her." I try to make an excuse, letting my hand fall down by my side as it briefly brushes against Carla's, causing her to pull it away. "Well thanks for coming."

"It's spent me forty minutes to walk here." He checks his watch, which I notice Carla eyeing up. "Thought we could hang out for a bit."

"Hang out?" I scoff slightly, knowing how childish he sounded in front of Carla. She forces herself to look at me, our eyes colliding momentarily. "Yeah sure."

"I'll uh... I'll go." She decides, beginning to walk away and I go after her, tugging on her hand as soon as Will is out of earshot.

"Carla?" I begin, not even knowing what I had to say to her.

"Leave it Chelle." She hisses under her breath. "Go and have a nice time. You deserve it, you really do."

"But I-" I begin.

"I mean it." She finishes, staring at me intently. "This, us. Whatever it is. It's done. You've got him. This never happened. None of it. Ok?"

"...Ok." I respond hesitantly and I see her eyes glisten over. I didn't know whether it was the response she wanted, despite not giving me much choice. She forces a smile for a moment.

"Enjoy it." She squeezes my hand. "You can be happy. That's a good thing." She finishes, tearing away from me and forcing herself to walk towards her block of flats, refusing to look back at me.

"So." I feel Will wrap his arms around my waist, jumping slightly at his touch. It didn't send warm chills down my spine, and it didn't give me butterflies. But it was normal, it made sense and for that reason, I turn around to face him. "What do you want to do?"

"I don't know." I smile, trying to forget anything that had happened and start a fresh. "Surprise me."

 **Carla**

I kick the wall harshly, before throwing my head back against it, a sharp pain searing through my skull, which I decide to ignore. I stare into the darkness, the silhouettes of trees I could hardly make out. The cloudy sky which concealed every single star, not even giving one away. It was that murky brown colour, not even inky navy or jet black, the satisfying, dark sky which made everything seem so much more magical. It was just brown, tendrils of cloud ambling along, encasing everything that lay behind it. Dull. Boring.

"Christmas not your style?" Paul's voice comes into earshot as he leans against the wall of the estate, lighting his cigarette. Surprisingly, his voice doesn't phase me, and neither does his comment.

"You know it's not." I respond, watching him blow wavering smoke against the breeze, twisting and turning desperately before dissipating.

"Bet it's been a day full of Christmas cheer over at yours, hasn't it?" He asks, sarcastically, and I don't know whether he desires to upset me with it, or make jokey conversation. But whatever the intention, it doesn't get past the thick skin I had built up over the course of today.

"Wouldn't know, haven't even been there." I mutter in response, kicking the gravel on the floor.

"I'm assuming that's why Michelle slipped out then?" He guesses and I roll my eyes, continuing to stare into the distance.

"Don't get her into trouble Paul." I sigh, sliding my finger nails down the rough, concrete wall behind me. "What's the point?"

"She's got this new boyfriend of hers now." He says, as if I wasn't aware. "You met him?"

"Yep." I reply, loathing the thought. "And if you're looking for any gossip, there isn't any. Sorry to provide you with nothing to blab to mummy and daddy."

"Witty." He grins, turning his head to look at me, and I continue to refuse returning his gaze. "Another thing that makes you sexy."

"Can't imagine it's an extensive list." I drone and he just laughs, continuing to watch me. "You hate me anyway, why would you say that?"

"I don't hate you." He assures me. "Strongly dislike you, yeah."

"Oh what's the difference?" I mutter, shaking my head at his poor humour.

"Doesn't mean you're not hot." He replies and I roll my eyes again.

"Classic." I respond. "How many times have I heard that? Do you think that makes me feel flattered in any way?"

"I was kidding Carla." He groans, realising I was in a 'boring' mood, and I roll my head across the wall to look at him. "Want to have sex?"

"...If you want." I just shrug, too empty to feel anything anyway, before a thought pops into my head. "I've got scars on my arms though, back out now if you want."

"You've been harming again?" His voice is suddenly surprisingly serious, almost caring and I force myself to nod, knowing he would find out one way or another. "Why?"

"Why not? What have I got to stop me? _Who_ have I got to stop me?" I reply, shivering slightly at the words and the look of sympathy in his expression makes me feel sick.

"Me." He answers and I raise my eyebrows at him, forcing myself not to emit a laugh.

"You?" I scoff. "The guy who just told me he strongly disliked me? Who just outright asked if I wanted to have sex and him?"

"I didn't mean what I said about disliking you." He sighs exasperatedly. "You just annoy me sometimes. A lot of the time. Doesn't mean I don't care."

"You don't care though." I correct him.

"I do care!" He exclaims, and it's quite possibly the most meaningful thing I've ever heard come out of his mouth. "Much to your dissatisfaction. I do care."

"...Fuck it." I sigh, leaning in to kiss him, pushing him back against the wall as the night closes in around us.


	9. New Year, Old News

**Chapter 8: New Year, Old News**

 _ **A/N: Had sudden inspiration for this, so I'm considering picking it back up if people are still reading.**_

 _ **Trigger warnings:**_

 _ **Strong language**_

 _ **Mild homophobic slurs**_

 **Carla**

"Hi." I hear Michelle greet me, as she swings her jacket over her shoulder, passing me outside the estate.

"Hi." I say in response, going to carry on walking before I feel her grip on my hand, pulling me backwards. "What? What do you want?"

"Is this how it's gonna be now?" She raises her eyebrows, putting her hands on her hips, and I avoid her gaze.

"Look I'm gonna be late." I sigh, pointing into the distance.

"Late?" She scoffs and I refrain from rolling her eyes at her sarcy response. "Late for what?"

"I've got an interview." I tell her, pursing my lips together as she inspects the 'smart' outfit I had put together, which was basically the dress I had worn for the funeral; the least skimpy one in my wardrobe. "At a shoe shop in town."

"Carla, that's fantastic news!" She looks so proud of me and I try not to let her warm through my frosty exterior.

"Not really. I'm hardly going to get it am I?" I sigh, leaning back against the wall.

"Don't be so negative." She nudges me and I bite my lip at her touch, immediately regretting doing so. "How was your Christmas in the end."

"Banging." I reply sarcastically. "Literally... As I'm guessing yours was."

"You had sex?" She immediately guesses and I try to act casual as I shrug. "With who?"

"Your brother." I respond bluntly and she struggles to conceal the hurt in her expression, which makes me feel bad.

"Which one?" Her tone is suddenly more bitter and I laugh slightly at her question.

"Well it's not gonna be Liam, is it?" I ask, despite the fact the idea is more appealing than reality. "Wouldn't touch that with a barge pole."

"...Unlike me." She dares to input and I study her for a moment.

"Like I said, we don't need to discuss that anymore." I remind her as we stare at each other so intensely. "You and 'Will' are good together. So, that's sorted isn't it?"

"And if me and Will weren't together?" She prompts me, lowering her voice. "Would it be a different story."

"No." I quickly reply, so firmly she almost looks shocked. "It's a stupid teenage mistake, Michelle. So get over it." I force myself to head past her, in the direction of the bus stop, leaving her stood watching me as I leave.

* * *

"Any previous work experience?" The woman asks me, acting all posh and smart with her scraped back bun and neck tie.

"No." I try to keep my tone sweet. "But I'm quite an independent person, I have to cater for my family a lot."

"Right." She nods, and I refrain from leaning back in my chair, knowing this is pointless. "Well we'd be happy to offer you a trial, on 2nd January, if you're interested?"

"...What?" I practically splutter, trying to contain my shock. "Uh, yeah. Yeah that would be great."

"How are your people skills?" She asks, making a note on the paper in front of her.

"Excellent." I blatantly lie. "I love... People."

"Ok well we'll see you on 2nd January then." She hands me the piece of paper with details on and I accept it gratefully, standing up to shake her hand.

"Thank you." I cough slightly. "See you soon." I practically run out of the shop, my heart pounding. Was somebody actually giving me a chance? Did I just secure a shot at something? My head is spinning as I head down the street, before suddenly colliding with someone and forcing myself not to fall backwards. "Shit, sorry."

"Oh hi." Dean's voice sounds and I look up from brushing myself down. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh, why is that any of your business?" I sound more bitter than intended, before holding up the piece of paper that was now scrunched in my fist. "Might have just got myself a job actually. Why, which shop are you robbing from?"

"A job? Wow, get you." He looks surprised which doesn't shock me. "I'm actually just picking up some food for the party later."

"When you say 'picking up', you mean picking up off the shelf and stuffing down that oversized jacket of yours?"

"I'm assuming you won't be wanting to share later then?" The devious grin crossing his expression prompts my eyes to roll, arms folding across my chest defensively.

"I don't eat a lot nowadays."

"Maybe not, but you will after a few puffs of this." He flashes me a bag of very familiar green substance, concealed in the inside pocket of his jacket, before quickly covering it back up again. I arch an eyebrow; was this his way of flirting with me? Constantly offering me drugs? Was this all I was known for?

"Well uh, you don't have to worry, I won't be sharing that with you either. I'm turning over a new leaf, and not that kind." I nod my head in the direction of his jacket, ignoring the smug disbelief of his expression. "And I'm not going to the party either."

"Oh come off it!" He emits a scoff. "What's a party without Carla Donovan there?"

"Well, you'll see tonight won't you?" I take the liberty of smoothly passing him by, calling back; "see you Dean, happy New Year."

 **Michelle**

"Chelle, you ready?" Liam knocks on my door, as I finish fixing my necklace in place, grabbing my bag.

"Yeah." I respond as I open the door and he stares at me for a moment, causing me to look up at him. "What?"

"You're taking a risk aren't ya?" Liam pointedly tilts his head in my direction. "Knocking briefcase boy dead when he's still got over a year before he can-"

"Oh will you shut up about sex?" I groan, slipping out of the front door after him, hoping it was unnoticed. "It's all you boys ever care about."

"Yes, exactly why I'm so concerned about his intentions towards you."

"Liam, he's a nice lad. He's hardly some back street thug with tattoos all up his arms, is he?" I point out and he shrugs in agreement. "Trust me, there's worse people I could have chosen."

It's a short walk to the nearby scruffy house where the New Years Eve party was taking place, held by a guy in Liam's year that I didn't even really know. Despite that however, it was one of those parties where everyone would turn up, a lot would be passed around, half the people wouldn't even make it to twelve conscious, and we'd probably be running from the police by three in the morning. Naturally, however, it wasn't Will's scene, and not the kind of place he'd have been invited, had I not enticed him to come.

"No drugs." Liam warns, passing a can of cheap lager to me and cracking open his own. I pull a face at it for a moment, but I'd never been overly fussy about booze. Well, we weren't in a place to be.

"I'll be on my best behaviour." I assure him sarcastically, letting the bitter bubbles meet my tongue. "Pretty sure Will won't be involving himself in any of that anyway."

"Oi, oi." Dean appears from a bustling crowd, gathered in the hallway and I awkwardly meet his eyes for a moment. He smacks his hand into Liam's, a wide grin on his face, which momentarily slips when he notices me. We hadn't really exchanged much contact in recent months, aside from when I'd kicked off in the tree house. He'd also clearly got the memo about my new 'boyfriend', and taken the hint to back off slightly. "Michelle, how's things?"

"Tickety-boo." I just respond, a hint of sarcasm lacing my tone and I take another long gulp of my lager.

"Where's lover boy?" He dares to ask me, shifting the bitterness from his tone. "Too scared to make it to the garden path?"

"Don't know, we're not joined at the hip." Is all I answer with, and in all honesty, I realise that I wouldn't be too gutted if that was the case. One thing I hated was feeling trapped, not that it was Will's intention. But with Dean leaning back against the peeling wall, leather jacket strung around his shoulders, beer can suitably gripped in one hand, the slick of black hair across his forehead, it was making it very difficult for me to return my full desires to my current relationship.

"Speaking of joined at the hip." Liam nudges me. "Is Carla here yet? Thought she'd be first in, necking the free booze."

"I don't know." I say quietly, innocently, as if everything was absolutely flamin' fine between Carla and I, which quite frankly, it was far from.

"Oh she's not coming." Dean pipes up and both our head's whip around in his direction. "Saw her in town earlier, she said she's turning over a new leaf or some shit."

"Turning over a new leaf?" Liam bursts into fits of laughter, but somehow, I don't find it so amusing.

"You know she's got a job? Or at least it's looking that way." He informs us and I feel my heart burst with pride momentarily, Liam letting out another sneer of laughter at the prospect.

"Bullshit."

"Liam!" I object, glaring at him, before turning back to Dean. "At the shoe shop?"

"Seems that way." He kicks his foot back against the wall casually, and my eyes drift down his posture as subtly as possible. "Let's see how long she can keep up this Little Miss Sensible act for though, ey?"

"Fuck this, I'm off to find her." Liam decides, still highly humoured at the news. "No way am I missing a chance to wind her up about this."

"Liam, maybe leave her?" I beg. I didn't need another person thrown into what was clearly about to become a messy tangle of leads to my love life. Will and Dean in the same packed hallway was enough for me to try and digest.

"What's up with you? You don't want your bezzie mate to keep you company all night? Now you've got your new boyfriend?" Liam jibes at me and I just shoot him a look, noticing how Dean's eyes awkwardly drift to the floor. "Deano, look after our Michelle will ya? Hey, you can add to my pep talk about why she shouldn't have sex until she's sixteen."

"Liam!" I feel my cheeks flush and he grins cheekily as he walks off, my hands pushing themselves into the pockets of my jacket. It takes a moment for us to both meet gazes, Liam's last comment building up more of a tension between us. "...You look well."

"You look gorgeous." He dares to retaliate and I emit a lustful sigh, trying to keep it discreet. This was such a complicated situation. Why did I need more confusion in my life?

 **Carla**

"What do you want Michelle?" I tug the door open after hearing a firm knock, face filling with surprise as I come to meet Liam on my doorstep. "I'm not coming to the party."

"Clever, aren't you?" He grins, a twinkle in his eye, that same one I tried to shut out from having any impact on me.

"Not according to my school reports." I just mutter in response. "You're lucky George isn't in."

"Where is he?"

"Casino."

"With what money?" He scoffs, glancing behind me and I just shrug. "Where's your mam?"

"Passed out."

"Come to the party." He starts to beg and I roll my eyes. "I don't believe all of this about you 'turning over a new leaf'."

"Bye Liam." I'm stubborn as I try to close the front door, his usual trick of jamming the toe of his shoe in it, causing it to come to an abrupt early stop.

"Please come?" He pushes it open again, the gentle squeak of the rotting metal causing me to give in, shoulders dropping, eyebrow arching. "You don't have to take anything, I'm not, I'm not even drinking."

"Oh yeah?" I lean in, quickly pecking him very lightly on the lips, which leaves him stunned and confused for a second, before I lick my own. "Bullshit, Lee-bugs, you've been drinking lager."

"...How do you do that?"

I'm not sure what he's referring to, as he stares at me so intently. So in order to cut the rising and unwanted chemistry between us, I respond with; "well, when you practically live in a liquor shop, you get used to being around the stuff."

"I don't think I'd buy my booze from here." He peers past me and I nod in agreement. Not that it was even particularly well stocked at the moment, hence why George was out trying to gamble ten pence to afford something that would get him through the next few nights. "You've got a job then?"

"If I can be patient on my trial and not bite a customers head off."

"Not looking promising then."

"No." I admit, chewing my lip for a moment. "Still, nice to have someone with a bit of faith in me."

"...Car, you need cheering up."

"And a dodgy spliff out the back of your mate's grotty bungalow with police sirens as music, is gonna do that, is it?"

"Michelle's there."

I let out a subtle scoff, my eyes moving to the wall and his narrow as he stares back at me.

"Has something happened between you two?"

"No." I deny, making it clear there was no negotiation on discussing the matter further. "Liam look at me, I don't look ready for a party."

"You look beautiful." The words escape his mouth before he can stop them, and I know afterwards that he regrets letting them, a brief silence hanging between us. "I mean, you look much better naturally than when you cake all that make-up on."

I settle in the quiet, resting over his words. My eyes flicker down to his lips, he notices, but neither of us make a move. We daren't. In my head, for some reason, Liam was more forbidden than even Michelle and I. Maybe I needed to stop jumping from sibling to sibling. Maybe I needed to cut all three of them out altogether.

"I think you'd be in the minority of blokes who think that."

"Well maybe I'm not like all other blokes." It was true; he wasn't. For good or bad reasons, or a mixture of both, I couldn't even decipher. "Maybe I see through the barrier you put up, know the real you."

"Nobody knows the real me."

"I don't think even you know the real you." He responds confidently. "Else you'd have more self-confidence."

Stop. Liam. Stop.

I squeeze my eyes closed, wishing I wasn't in this situation right now. Wishing there wasn't the perfect opportunity to invite him in while the flat was practically vacant. Wishing he didn't want the same thing.

"I'll get my coat."

"You don't need a coat." He grabs my hand, tugging me from the house and grinning victoriously. It wasn't a sharp or vicious movement, more gentle and the kind of dominance that sends a rush of butterflies through me. That same one I'd only ever experienced once. That same one I'd only ever experienced with him. Bar his sister. I was grateful that he had been strong enough to ease away the desperation we both had for one another. Because when it came down to it, we both knew it couldn't happen. We were both too vain, fiery, secretly insecure. And the situation was exactly the same with Michelle. If I was going to end up with any of them, it would inevitably be Paul. Sure, he didn't send butterflies rushing through me, or make my heart skip a beat when he walked into a room. Not like his brother and sister. But that was the way things were set. I'd learnt the hard way that you can't always get what you want. That's how survival worked.

"Ey, knew you couldn't keep away." Dean's smug expression is the first I interact with when the rowdy chatter and blaring music fills my ears and we step into the hallway. Liam's arm momentarily snakes around my waist as he follows behind me, to stick by me as we wade through the crowd, but the connection is quickly and unfortunately broken. "Some new leaf that."

"Well, like you said." I take the beer can from his grip, which he doesn't even object to, taking a long, smooth sip from it. "What's a party without Carla Donovan?"

"Dressed for the occasion?" He eyes up the tatty ripped jeans and jumper I'm fashioning, although not looking disgusted.

"Liam said I looked fine." I dob him in it, turning to smile sweetly. "Didn't you?"

"Uh, yeah." He just mutters quietly, immediately embarrassed about admitting the earlier conversation. Typical. This is why he drove me up the wall; he'd never admit any of these things to his mates, or anyone except me, for that matter. "Where's our Chelle? I told you to watch her."

"Oh relax, she's out in the garden with that puff."

I shiver, which luckily goes unnoticed by both the boys.

"Well let's hope he's not a puff." Liam comments, heading off in that direction.

"Yeah..." Dean just murmurs to himself and I meet his eyes awkwardly. Little did he know we were both thinking the same things.

 **Michelle**

"Where have you been?" Liam exclaims as I drag Will through the crowd, eventually finding my brother again. He eyes up the apparently evident swelling around my mouth, partly from my smudged lipstick, partly from the constant pressure of Will's lips against mine for about an hour and a half. "I said where have you been?" He says more firmly, clearly having searched the house for us.

"The bottom of the garden!"

"Doing what?"

"Drinking, talking, kissing." I outline, knowing he was pressing me to tell him I hadn't been rolling around in the grass. "Having sex under the apple tree."

"Michelle." Liam warns, knowing I was joking, because otherwise I wouldn't admit it so openly. As I knew from other experiences. "Listen, sonny-boy, you better not push her into doing anything-"

"Ooh, Lee-lee's got his serious voice on." Carla appears, draped around Dean's shoulders, which angers me slightly. They'd clearly been spending most the night together, as much as she knew I would be finding it hard to deal with both him and Will being in the same scenario. Maybe I was being selfish. "Alright Chelle." She meets my eyes very momentarily, talking matter-of-factly with a subtle hint of bitterness only I could pick up on. "Will."

"Hi Carla." My boyfriend raises a hand in greeting, hitching the wide framed glasses up his nose. I roll my eyes; as much as I hated to sound so shallow, he definitely did not fit in here, with his pale blue shirt tucked into belted trousers. It was ruining my reputation, and quite frankly, my desire to be around him was fading fast. He had already insisted we spend 'quality time' together down the bottom of the garden, which basically just resulted in him sticking his tongue down my throat, hesitant to let me converse with anyone else. It was only after I said I was getting cold, despite having his jacket offered to me beforehand, that he gave in and let us retire from where we had been isolated in the uncut grass.

"So you're Will." Dean eyes him up and down distastefully. They couldn't be more different; Will with his knowledge and curly gelled hair, hands tucked neatly into the pockets of his trousers. Dean with his unruly black hair that fell across dark eyes, the way they glittered excitingly, enticingly, leather jacket pointedly insinuating that he wasn't a good boy. "Dean. I suppose your lot find a handshake appropriate in these circumstances." He holds a hand out and Will pauses before taking it, quickly pulling the hand sanitiser out of his pocket and squirting a large dollop into his palm as soon as he's retracted. Carla scoffs, amused, into Dean's shoulder and I feel my shoulders sink in embarrassment.

"Will, can you get me a drink? I want a word with Carla." I blurt out, her head snapping around to face me.

"It's nearly midnight." She excuses herself, raising the bottle of vodka in her spare hand and taking a long gulp of the poisonous liquid. "Don't want to miss the countdown."

 _Oh I do._ I think to myself, but just forcing a smile onto my face as I take the hint. She didn't want to talk to me, she didn't want to save me. Which was fair enough. I'd probably feel just as bitter and vengeful if the tables were turned.

"Kiss me at midnight?" Carla turns to Dean and my heart stops for a second. Ok, not that vengeful. "I mean, we've got no one else to kiss."

"You do realise you're not supposed to ask these things?" Dean let's out a laugh, nudging her playfully. "Maybe I already had plans to kiss you."

"Ah, have I ruined the moment?" She asks sweetly, flirtatiously, and I have to look away, hurt ripping inside me. I knew exactly why they were both doing it. Difference being, Dean didn't know why Carla was.

"Who the hell am I meant to kiss at midnight?"

"Well I was never gonna kiss ya." Carla jibes at him, less sourly but I can see the disappointment flicker very briefly in his expression. She was out to get both of us. For what? Trying to find happiness? Knowing it would be best for all our sakes if we didn't meld into some fucked up love square?

My eyes slowly draw up to hers, tears glistening vey discreetly in them. She swallows, looking guilty for all of two seconds, before plastering the grin back on her face.

My ears are filled with descending counting. Will's arm snaking around my waist protectively, or lovingly? Who knew.

My lips are pressed to his as a cheer rings out, but my gaze travels elsewhere, focusing in on how Carla wraps her arms around Dean's neck, kissing him softly. Liam let's out an awkward cough, leaning back against the wall, trying to look anywhere but the two couples around him. This hurt. This was so painful.

Will's palm meets my cheek as my head is dragged back to him, clearly not satisfied with the half-hearted kiss I was giving in response. But I wasn't having any of it. I tear away, anger lurching inside of me as I grab one of Carla's hands, pulling her away from Dean and towards the front door.

"Michelle, what the fuck?" She snaps as the cold air hits us, intimate couples around us not taking an interest.

"No, what the fuck. What the fuck are you playing at?" I yell at her, pacing up the garden path to a quieter area, Carla following me in annoyance. "Why would you do that?"

"What?" She shouts back, knowing full well what I was implying as she brushes the hair back from her face.

"Kiss Dean in front of me!"

She just scoffs as my words ring out around the silent neighbourhood, light raindrops scattering my skin. "Michelle, why not? You've got a boyfriend. Dean's old news to you."

"I don't care whether he's old news or plastered over the latest gazette!" I scream at her, fury and jealousy wrenching through me. I didn't even know who I was more jealous of. My head was pounding with emotion and deciphering my feelings right now wasn't something I had time to do. "You know how I felt about him. _Feel_."

"Well no, no I don't actually." She folds her arms defensively. "Because between you messing with my head and playing that stupid wet wipe Will, we haven't had much chance to talk about Dean. In fact, we haven't had much chance to talk at all. You know, you can't have everyone, Michelle? You chose. You made your decision. The rejects aren't inclined to stick around waiting for you to come crawling back to them."

"Oh you're one to talk!" My voice rises in hysterics, tears, or rain, streaming down my cheeks. "Paul, Liam, Michelle, Paul, Liam, Michelle - and you want to lecture me on messing with people's heads?" I begin to rant on, not even thinking over what I was saying before the words leave my mouth. "I never even made a decision! I felt embarrassed about Dean and I didn't want to be played. And you told me it was over between us, whatever 'it' was. So I'm sorry if you think I've messed around, screwing you all up but it fucking hurts when you're in love with someone who can't stand the idea of you and her being together!"

The silence is deafening as I finish, Carla's eyes widening in shock. My cheeks flush suddenly, although probably hardly visible in the darkness. I drop my gaze to the floor, running back over my words. Had I even meant them? It was heat of the moment, but perhaps that's when the truth is easiest exposed.

I wait for her to say something, half expecting her to pull me in and kiss me. And I realise I wouldn't even care if she did. I wouldn't care about the stares, or hurting Will, or if Liam walked out right now and caught us.

But she doesn't.

She turns on her heel.

"Fair enough." Is all she delivers before dropping away into the night.


	10. That Scuzzy Youth Club On Peel Street

**Chapter 9: That Scuzzy Youth Club on Peel Street**

 _ **Trigger warning:**_

 _ **Strong language.**_

 **Carla**

 _It fucking hurts when you're in love with someone who can't stand the idea of you and her being together._

Her. Michelle had definitely meant me. Regardless of the pronoun, I'd been able to see it in her face. The shock, the admittance. The guilt?

Despite this however, I hadn't seen Michelle for a few days since the party. School hasn't started back yet and I'd been focusing completely on my new job, trying to make sure I didn't screw this up and all. At the minute, I mainly worked in the stockroom, packing shoes into boxes and organising everything. It had helped me reach the conclusion that I would never be working in a factory long term. But it was a job, and when I put my mind to the fact that it was actually an opportunity I never thought I'd have, it made the workload seem more appealing.

"Carla?" A voice calls through the door and I turn to see my manager staring at me intently. "Your shift finished five minutes ago."

"Oh..." I check the clock on the wall. "Sorry, it can only be a good sign that I'm not running out of here bang on four, ey?"

"Are you alright lovely?" She checks, clearly weighing up the dark circles and distant expression I was fashioning. I nod, the same way I'd respond to anyone. I especially wasn't sharing matters of the heart with my new manager. "Ok well, you can get yourself off when you want."

I didn't particularly want to get myself off. Home grew more unappealing by the day. Plus the fact that tonight I had to go to the scuzzy youth club on Peel Street, for a so called 'birthday party', organised by Liam and Dean. I'd turned sixteen last week, but wasn't remotely interested in the concept. It was another year I'd made alive, indeed, but aside from that jubilation, there was very little celebrate, and very little to celebrate with. Even Michelle hadn't made an effort to see me on my birthday. Usually she'd try and make some tacky friendship bracelet as a present, or at least write 'happy birthday' with a message on a piece of notebook paper, folding it into a card. Maybe it was embarrassment, maybe she just didn't care anymore. But as much as I tried to pretend I didn't care, I'd never felt so lonely in my entire life, and that was a tough thing to beat.

It's not unusual to walk into the rusting, rotting flat to the sound of hysterical shouting. I squeeze my eyes shut, this was the last thing I needed right now. I wanted to lie down on my bed and do absolutely nothing. Overthink everything. Wallow in self-pity and probably end up smoking, drinking or cutting. Three of the most appealing ideas in my life.

"Psst. You've missed social services." Rob's whisper sounds from the crack in his bedroom door, and I jump slightly, shoving him into it and closing it behind me.

"Every cloud." I just mutter, pausing to listen to the shouting. Or more, George hammering on at mam while she let out some pathetic whimper about trying her hardest. That same old chestnut. "All went well then."

"They want mam to go to rehab."

"They found drugs on her?" My eyes widen, suddenly the thought sends shivers down my spine. Not for mam's sake, for my own selfish reasons. Because I knew if mam went into rehab, we'd be taken into care for the time being, just like we had been when she went into the psychiatric unit when I was eight. Rob and I had both spent two weeks in foster care. Sure, we had eaten well and the beds were comfy, but the contrast to reality and sickly normality of it all actually made me nauseous. And admittedly, I'd missed Michelle and Liam a damn lot. Especially now I was older, more independent and head-strong; being told what to do by some middle class prim and proper couple in their semi-detached house and their poor attempts at cooking macaroni cheese for tea, was not something that I found appealing.

"No, they just sensed she wasn't right." Rob shrugs. "I don't know, this is what I picked up from listening at the door."

"Not a valid reason, they have no solid evidence that can force her to go then. We'll be fine." I recite from experience, a loud smash suddenly sounding and mam crying loudly. Maybe she'd finally bumped George off, now that would be a birthday present I'd take with pleasure.

"What the fuck are you both doing?" I escape the room, storming up the short corridor and into the living room. Folding my arms dominantly, my eyes flicker between where George is lighting a cigarette against the wall, mam cowering on the floor, knees pulled up to her chest, a smashed glass bottle next to her.

"What did you just say?" George mutters, turning his head to face me but showing no signs of actually threatening or expressing even mild levels of anger. Evidently, this argument had worn him out.

"Is that tobacco?"

"'Course it's tobacco you stupid girl." He scoffs, as if it was an unreasonable question, and they hadn't just been accused by social services of being drug addicts.

"What did social services say?"

"That yer mam is a lazy bitch." He just fires back at her, puffing heavily on his cigarette. Laughing to himself smugly, he runs his fingers up the goosebumps pricking his arms, as if he'd made a really humorous joke. "Sharon clear that glass up."

"What even happened?" I eye up the glass that mum is now scraping together, shards visibly cutting into her skin as she fails to stop her hand from shaking. "Oh for God's sake, just get up, I'll do it."

"Carla..." She holds her hand out for me to see the cuts now bleeding on her finger tips, like some weak little child that had fallen and grazed their knee. I sigh, producing one of the plasters I had robbed from the first aid kit at work, checking over the main cut for glass shards and sealing the bandage over the top. "Thank you Carla."

"Just shut up." I mutter, unenthusiastically taking one of the leaflets social services had left on the counter to scoop the glass up with. Once it's cleared, I turn to George, who's eyes are closing exhaustively, still leant up against the wall. I didn't know what the hell was making him so tired. He hadn't been slaving away packing boxes for seven hours straight. I was the one working now, since he gambled away the majority of our child benefit handouts. This was really what it had come to. "Right well, I'm going to the shops. Mam's gonna pass out in a minute if she doesn't eat or drink something."

"She's drank enough."

"I mean something non-alcoholic." I roll my eyes at George's dig. I hated him. His uncaring smirk. The fact that I had to go out and spend my hard earned wages on food for my own mother, because he blew money which wasn't even for him, down the drain.

"How are yer affording that?"

"I got paid today." I just respond bluntly, wondering if it would trigger any kind of guilt. But instead, his eyes just twinkle excitedly. "And you're seeing nowt of it. Fuck you."

 **Michelle**

"I'm not giving it to ya until you tell me what's happened between you and Carla." Liam insists, holding the water bottle of vodka out of my reach. The youth club was a strictly no alcohol zone, or at least they thought it was. I say 'strictly' loosely, ultimately I don't really think they cared at all, as long as it was pinned up on the door. I hadn't been here in a while. Carla and I came quite a bit a few years ago, hanging out on a Friday night purely just for the central heating, which now I was pretty sure had broken. There didn't seem to even be any staff around, so by letting Liam and Dean use it free of charge, had basically signed themselves up for having a load of underage drunks smashing the place up. Perhaps they wanted it that way if it would get rid of it once and for all. "Michelle?"

"What?" I snap out of my trance, eyes averting back to the bottle swinging above my head.

"What's going on with you and Carla?"

"Nothing!" I deny very abruptly, catching him on the off-chance and prizing the vodka from his grip. "We just haven't had as much time for one another. You know, she's got her new job, I've got my new relationship."

"Oh yeah, world's biggest power couple. Is curly top making an appearance tonight?"

"Do you sit in your room mind mapping all these names for him?" I arch an eyebrow, wrinkling my nose at his creativity. "And no, he's not."

"Ah, got some homework to do, has he?"

"No, I just didn't invite him." I respond firmly, taking a swig from the bottle and wincing at the fire that channels down my throat.

"Trouble in paradise?"

"It's far from paradise." I mutter, unsure whether he hears me or not because upon Carla and Rob's arrival, everyone turns their attention to her. And I could see why.

Dark hair flowing against her silky skin, a short red dress clinging seductively to her figure, she struts in, black heeled boots clattering against the moulding wood. Her eyes stood out, shadowed elegantly with deep eyeshadows, a skill I didn't even know she had.

Admittedly only to myself, she looked drop dead gorgeous. Will and Dean were non-existent. The rapid beating of my heart and burning desire between my legs, on the other hand, definitely were.

A short breath escapes my lips as a sigh, her eyes meeting mine. Was this further punishment? Was she going to push the boundaries even further?

Hoping Liam hadn't noticed how I was staring at her so intently, I snatch my eyes from Carla's, only to notice that he was staring in the same direction I had been. Why did she have this impact? What hold did she have over us?

"Decent turn out." She pats Liam's shoulder in greeting, flashing me a warm smile, which I'm surprised to receive. "Hiya Chelle." Her eyes drift down the green lace dress that holds my figure, trying to make it as subtle as possible. "You look uh, amazing."

"So do you." I just murmur, trying to stop my cheeks from flushing. "...You look really..." I trail off, sensing Liam by my side, and Rob by Carla's. "I haven't seen that dress before."

"I got paid today." She just discloses, leaving the rest for me to work out. "Is your boyfriend not with you?"

She puts it so elegantly and casually that it takes me a second to formulate a response. I'd give her something; she was a good actress, pretending nothing had gone on between me and her was performed with ease. I, on the other hand, wasn't so talented in that department. "Who uh... Oh, him, yeah he's uh, no, he's not coming."

"...Oh." Is all she responds with, nodding, showing no more interest on the matter. "That vodka?"

"What? Uh, yeah." I glance down at it, spluttering again and she laughs softly, brow furrowing as she takes it from my grip. "Help yourself."

"I should think so. It'll make up for the birthday card I didn't receive this year." She winks playfully, putting on a convincing act that she wasn't bothered. It couldn't be further from the truth. I'd just been too embarrassed to admit that I'd actually saved up my pocket money to buy her a genuine card and present this year.

"So, cheers." Liam clinks his can against the water bottle in her hand. "Happy birthday you absolute nightmare. Congratulations, you could now legally have sex, had that ship not sailed a long time ago."

"Did he have this speech ready prepared?" Rob pulls a face at me and I just shrug.

"Sixteen looks good on you." Liam adds, staying adamant not to check her out in the process.

"Are you flirting with me, Liam Connor?" Her voice drops a decibel as she winds him up, tone huskier, my heart fluttering at the impact it had.

"As if." He emphasises, sipping from his can.

"You're looking gorgeous, Chelle." Rob comments, clearly trying to instigate another conversation after his last attempt failed.

"Thanks Robert." I just smirk slightly. "As do you."

 **Carla**

The clack of heels on the paving stones outside the club are easily recognised before Michelle takes the cigarette from my hand. Leaning back against the cool brick next to me, we stare into the distance for a while, raising it to her lips once more.

"Yeah, go ahead, have the whole thing."

"You took my vodka."

"Like I said, it makes up for my lack of birthday card." I smile to myself, although the words prompt a dull ache inside me that couldn't be disguised.

"Sorry it's late." I feel something sharp dig into my arm gently, head moving around to where she is offering a card to me, a wrapped gift attached. Guilt wrenches inside of me. She hadn't forgotten, of course she hadn't forgotten. "I just haven't seen you recently. You know, with you going up in the world."

"I was only kidding."

"Yeah well I wasn't." She pokes me with it again, a playful smile tugging at her lips. I can't resist watching her take another smooth drag from he cigarette, flicking the ash off the end and letting the wisps of smoke escape her lips. Annoyingly, it was incredibly sexy.

 _Carla,_

 _Happy 16th birthday. You can now legally smoke and have sex, although it might be a bit late for that celebration._

 _I know you hate me right now, but just remember how much I love you, and how strong you are. I'll always have your back, that's a promise. That's never going to change._

 _All my love,_

 _Michelle xxx_

"Why would you think I hate you?" I force myself not to cry at the beauty of her words. "I've told you before, I could never hate you. Bitch on your period or not."

"You haven't opened your present." She points out, diverting the topic and I begin to unwrap it. "It's nothing special, it's all I could afford."

"You actually bought me something?" My brow furrows as my fingers hesitate, responding to her nod by prizing the gift from the crumpled up wrapping paper.

"I just thought, that frame with the photo of us in has been broken for ages. You could do with a new one." She taps the silver frame with engraved flowers she had bought for me, noticing my eyes glaze over, which I am quick to force back. "And I'm sorry... If you feel like I've neglected you these past few months, left you out. I feel awful. You're always my top priority, you know that."

"Chelle... I don't know what to say." I stare down at the frame and back up to her. "Thank you. Thank you." My arms seal around Michelle as I wrap her in a hug. Involuntarily, she breathes the scent of my hair in, and I find myself doing the same. That same smell which made me so comfortable. She notices, because her gaze meets mine as she pulls back, faces just inches apart. Eyes search one another, mine gliding down her dress and back up again. Not so discreetly this time. "And um..." I try to think of something to cut the chemistry rising between us. "You've had more important things to focus on."

"I don't think I have. And I especially haven't right now." She whispers, the pad of her thumb grazing along my cheek. This was a repetitive cycle of heartache and neither of us showed any signs of making our minds up any time soon. "...I don't even like him. Will, I mean. Yeah, at first it was ok, but now... He's so intense. So needy. I feel trapped and... Controlled."

"Has he hurt you?" I ask firmly, protectiveness blossoming inside me and she shakes her head. "You promise me Chelle? Because I will kill him. I would actually kill him-"

"He hasn't Carla." She sighs, eyes fluttering closed. I can smell her perfume, like sweet honey, and it makes me want to pull closer to her. For that reason alone, definitely. "You're sweet, looking after me. Sixteen, hey?"

"Who'd have thought I'd make it?" I mean it as a joke, but I see the meaning in her eyes as they focus on mine.

"Me." The word escapes her lips and it's now that I realise how close we are.

"Well if you don't like him, what's the point in being with him?"

"And if you like someone, what's the point in not being with them?" Is what she fires back with, although softly, the words hit me hard. I swallow the lump in my throat, clutching the frame harder in my hand.

"Because I'd hurt you in the end, Chelle." I dare to respond to her question, although I can't know for definite it's what she was insinuating. "And you deserve better than me." I conclude, trying to be strong for both of us and checking the card again. "Three kisses, ey? Well I can have them at least." I peck her once on the lips. "One." I try to plaster a playful smile on my face, but the contact does nothing to humour her, or just makes her desire everything more.

 **Michelle**

"Two." She places another very light kiss against my lips, and before she can reach three, I move in to her, pressing mine against hers for a prolonged count. Our heads barely part, stopping so close to one another. I could hear the rapid beat of her heart, the intensity of her breathing. The way her hair fell against her cheekbones. The creamy skin and sea green eyes. The beauty. Pure beauty.

"Three." I whisper, moving in again, and this time she doesn't pull away. She lets me in, letting herself weaken. It's everything I craved. I'd missed this so much. It should confirm everything. But I knew deep down I'd wake up tomorrow morning and want to pretend I never felt this way. My eyes open momentarily, as she sucks gently on my bottom lip, taking in how flawless she was.

"What are going to do about Will?" Her words hush against the quiet night, heat tickling off my own lips as they're emitted.

"Why are you thinking about my boyfriend while you kiss me?" I just murmur, smiling gently and she giggles, pulling back to study me. The look on her face fades gradually as she mulls it over, shivering as I place my palm to her cheek. "Do you want to sleepover tonight?" I dare to ask and her eyes snap back to mine. "Please? I want you." I don't even care how needy I sound, and I can see the depth of lust in her own eyes at my admittance.

"Chelle... You can't just... You're still in a relationship."

"I'll bin it off. I'll do it."

"For what? For me?" She swallows, searching my face meaningfully and I nod, causing a light sigh to escape her lips. "Michelle you don't know what you want."

"You don't know what you want either!" I point out, desperately, my knees weakening slightly at the impact of the conversation. "You don't know which of us you want. We're both in the same boat here, Carla, we're both confused."

"I'm not gay." She affirms, nose almost wrinkling at the thought, but I suppose it was the way she had been brought up. She hesitates, as if debating which route to take, the one to happiness but confusion, or the one to denial. "But you know, I will support you if you are... I don't know, a lesbian, I'll support you all the-"

"I'm not a lesbian!" I snap, my voice rising slightly and Carla's eyes search the surroundings in panic.

"Bisexual then." She hisses, as if only just grasping the word. "You know, them people who like both-"

"I know what it means! Don't turn this around on me." I stare at her in shock. "Why is this suddenly pinned on me? You feel the same, you just can't accept it!"

"Stop trying to out me Michelle!"

"I'm not - I'm not trying to do anything of the..." I splutter, furrowing my brow at how she had somehow jumped to that conclusion. "You're the one who just called me a fucking lesbian!" I stupidly shout and she winces, raising a finger to her lips desperately. "Why are you so embarrassed about the idea of being with me?"

"There is no _idea_!"

"Look, I know you're scared." I try to calm myself, placing a hand on her arm and she shudders at the contact. Something she had been more than happy to oblige to about five minutes previous to this moment. "Trust me, I am too. I'm not saying we're in a relationship Carla, I'm just trying to decipher the evident feelings that we both have, to some extent. Deny that all you like but we both know it's true."

"And what about Dean? Hm?" She prompts me defensively. "You might not be so keen on Will anymore, but you still have feelings for Dean. Don't you?" She presses me and I open my mouth, not even knowing the response myself. "Don't you?"

"I... Don't even know."

"See, you don't know. You don't know how you feel about anything. You're just a kid."

"A kid?" I repeat, eyebrows flying to my hairline angrily. "What? Suddenly you're sixteen and up there on your high horse? Full of knowledge about life and love? Well I might be a kid Carla, but at least I can admit things. At least I haven't got to hide feelings that are so blatantly obvious from myself, let alone anyone else."

"This can't carry on." Carla takes a step back, raising her hands defiantly. "It can't, it... We can't do this."

"What do you mean?"

"This, us. Our friendship. It's unhealthy." She decides and I feel my heart drop in my chest. This was really happening, after all these years. "We can't carry on pretending everything is fine, can we? Not when it's always going to be like this." She takes a deep breath, tears formulating in her eyes. "Ok. You win. You fucking win Michelle. Yeah, I've got feelings for you. Maybe I love you. I have no idea. But it's tainted now, isn't it? Now I've said that. It's why I was denying it all along because once it's been said the friendship is ruined."

"...But it doesn't have to be, we've both said it now." I beg her, taking her hand in mine. "We can take things slow, see what happens. We don't have to rush."

"Michelle you are so sweet." She cries softly, brushing my own tears back as she looks into my eyes. "And so kind and caring. And you're also so right about everything."

"So give us a chance? Why not? If we both know we feel this way, it makes no sense not to? We don't even have to tell anyone?" I plead with her, as if this was life or death. "Please, just come back to mine. We don't have to... Do anything. We can just lie in bed, I'll hold you, we can talk. Just be together all night."

"There's nothing I want more than that." Her voice cracks, and I know that although they're the words I so longed to hear, they were about to be shattered. "I really want to cave and say yes, I do. But I can't, Chelle. We can't."

"Why? It doesn't make any sense!"

"Because in a few years time, baby, you'll understand." She whispers, leaning her head forwards to kiss the tip of my nose, her tears staining mine. "You'll know why I did this. I'm doing it for your sake. You're gonna go so far, do amazing things, meet someone who truly deserves you. You'll thank me, because although we want this so badly right now, you'll be grateful that I stopped this and us when I did. I can't drag you down further."

"Don't cut me out. Please, I'll do anything. Don't leave me, Carla." I sob, giving up with any reputation I had and her expression breaks, a gutted whimper escaping her lips as she moves in to kiss me. I absorb the connection, the feeling of her against me. I relish it as best as I can.

Because then it was gone, pulled away from me. Her hand drags across her cheeks, taking a step back and squeezing my hand for a final time. "I'm sorry, Chelle."

"Carla! Don't!" I yell after her, but she's already running up the road and I knew as much as I tried, I'd never catch up with her. I erupt in a fit of tears, sliding down the wall and pulling my knees up to my chest. This was what it felt like when a heart broke. Literal pain emanating from my chest.

 _I was just trying to remember the first time we proper fell out, I mean end of world fell out. You know when it was? That scuzzy youth club, on Peel Street._

 _Michelle we've been friends far too long not to try and fix this._


	11. Dreaming

**Chapter 10: Dreaming**

 **Carla**

"You wanted to see me?" I drop down into the battered chair opposite the head teacher, folding my arms in an uncaring fashion. "So?"

"Exam season is upon us, Miss Donovan." Mr Pepper informs me, staring at me so intently I can almost feel his gaze burning into mine. "You've got your GCSE's in a matter of weeks."

"It was mentioned." I nod, unsure of what he was getting at. "So what's this? A 'get your head down and work' chat? Because I think it's a bit late for that."

"What do you want to do in life, Carla?" He softens slightly, leaning forwards inquisitively and I hesitate, eyes averting to the ugly Chinese waving cat sculpture that sat on his office shelf. Weren't those supposed to be lucky? I assumed Mr Pepper had never received much luck from it. Slaving away trying to keep a failing secondary school in the scummy outskirts of Manchester afloat, being talked back to by rebellious adolescents and having the same ham and lettuce sandwich for dinner every day in the staff room surrounded by depressed wet drips for teachers, was not what I could classify as luck.

"What I want to do, or what will I actually do?" I ask after a pause, and he just emits a shrug from his shoulders, as if he wasn't even interested in the answer in the first place. He probably wasn't, people very rarely asked me things and actually appreciated the response. Maybe it was just his last desperate attempt at persuading me to write anything in my exam booklet that wasn't a line of doodles down the margin. That was if I even turned up. "Uh... Well, if I could do anything in some imaginary dream world, I'd... I guess maybe run my own business. You know, where I'd be in charge, I'd be able to boss everyone around. People would bring me tea and coffee. I'd be able to afford those dead posh clothes, you know like when you see those sleek business women heading to work in the morning? All heels clacking against the tarmac and fancy up-dos. Trying to avoid any eye contact with anyone around my area, obviously. Yeah, something where I can put my feet up on the desk and think 'this is my pride and joy and I run it my way'."

"So why if you know exactly what you want, are you making no effort to move towards it?" He asks, brow furrowing as if the question was actually up for debate. He wasn't stupid, surely he must know that no matter how much effort I put into fashioning this imagination, it would make it no more real, no more achievable.

"Why?" I arch an eyebrow, slumping back in my chair cockily. The surface was rough, the kind which has the minuscule bumps running over the plastic, that knits with my tights and causes my legs to go sore and itchy. "Because like I said, there's a difference between what I want to do and what I will actually do. And unlike a lot of your students who will try to kid themselves that they won't end up stacking the shelves of Greggs on a Wednesday evening, instead of owning it, I can face reality. And although I'm pretty sure you're going to follow that up with some bullshit about how no one can predict the future, you don't live in _the_ worst council flat in Manchester. So I'll let you into a little secret, Mr Pepper, which I probably shouldn't because, well, you could have social services, child protection, all that shit on the phone as soon as I leave. But I figure we've got, what? Three, four more months together, lucky for you, so here's the ultimatum, since you did ask nicely. I will keep my job at the shoe shop, stacking the same old shelves with the same old boxes, trying to keep my brother from further harm. My mam's on her last legs but hopefully she'll hang on in there until I'm eighteen, because I am categorically not going into care again. If my step-dad doesn't end up killing me or driving me to jump off the nearest multi-story car park, I'll probably end up resorting to... I don't know, lap dancing, maybe even prostitution if it comes down to it, as soon as I'm inevitably fired from where I'm currently working. But as it happens, apparently you don't need a piece of paper and a letter telling me that I successfully managed to write a few words on a few pages of some food technology or German essay booklet, to do that." I catch my breath for a second, eyes narrowing to study the depth of his expression. Was it sympathy? Was it anger? Was it the sheer knowledge that deep down he knew I was correct? I didn't care, because although his life may be lonely and his lunch everyday might be boring, he didn't face a world of hurt as soon as he departed these school gates in a few months time. "...So, I'm really sorry, Mr Pepper, if I'm going to be the cause of just another slipping grade or league table, in this... Fairly trivial competition that schools have going on. But I think it's too late for you to try and save me or, no hold on, save your _reputation,_ now."

I take the silence as my cue to leave, wondering whether my elongated speech has done him in altogether. Pushing my chair out so the collision of the rusting metal on the flooring makes a loud and painful screeching noise, I rise, heading towards the door.

"You could get a B for that." The words stop me in my tracks and I turn, debating if I'd imagined him beckoning me back.

"I'm sorry?"

"Maybe an A, if you didn't get marked down for inappropriate language." He adds and my hands fall to my hips, gazing at him cockily. "Sociology, English, critical thinking. You claim you're going nowhere, that you've got nothing going for you and you're not intelligent. But you are, you've just proved it."

"Oh I never said I wasn't intelligent." I assure him, weighing up the desperation in his expression. "I'm very intelligent. Just not in the way you want me to be." I turn on my heel, waiting no longer to see if he calls me back with another attempt, storming down the corridor with hidden emotion seething in my veins.

 **Michelle**

My fingers weave their way through the daisy laden field, picking at the stems and intertwining them with one another. I remember teaching Carla how to make daisy chains when we were children. She'd had a rough day and begged me to take her mind off it, so resulted with her head laid in my lap, summer sun low in the sky, making the longest chain between the two of us.

I said she could take it home with her that day. To look at it whenever she needed cheering up, reminding her of the blissful ignorance we had indulged in for hours on end. I hadn't seen it since.

Loneliness was a burden I was carrying heavily at the moment. It had been weeks since Carla and I had last spoken. A few times after the conversation outside the youth club, I'd bumped into her rounding a corner, or 'accidentally' caught her behind the gym at school. But she had been quick to let the moment pass by, flashing a polite smile before heading off on her own. Always on her own. The dull ache hasn't faded in my chest since I lost my best friend. I was lonely, and about to get a whole lot lonelier.

"This is a nice surprise." Will's voice causes me to look up, swallowing nerves as he approaches me. He seemed cheery, which was strange, considering I was certain that for a smart boy, he'd be aware of what was coming. Our 'relationship' had been obviously strained for weeks now. My fault, of course. But I had never completely been into this in the first place, and when I had two other people playing on my mind, it was hard enough without having to put energy I didn't have into a relationship I didn't want. "I got the note from Jacob, who got it from Billy, who got it from you." He sits down next to me, pecking my cheek and I resist the urge to pull away. "Although you could have just told me in geography earlier that you wanted to hang out."

"...I hate geography." It's a pointless and irrelevant statement, but I felt I needed to say something to stop him wittering on. "...And this isn't really... Hanging out, Will. It's uh-"

"Hang on." He grins, cutting me off and fishing around in his briefcase, producing a chocolate bar and handing it to me. I hesitate, brow furrowing as I take it from his grip. "Bounty, your favourite."

"...I don't like Bounty." I decide it's best not to start asking where he got that assumption from. Maybe it was one of the dreams he's apparently been having about me. Cooking up some imagination of us getting married, having three children and a black Labrador. I'd told him I preferred golden, he said I could have whatever I wanted as long as it made me happy. I wasn't happy. I had a strong feeling that I might never be happy again, and especially not with him. "Mars is my favourite."

"Nobody likes Mars bars really." His nose wrinkles at the thought, laughing it off as if I hadn't just insulted his 'gift' ungratefully.

"I like Mars. Carla likes Mars." I remember back to when she stole a three pack from the shop just to cheer me up the day Paul had ripped the head off one of my Polly Pockets in a rage. One each, and then the third one split into two. I got the bigger piece, despite her growling stomach, because she said it made her smile when I did.

"Mars fills you up too fast."

"Probably why Carla likes them." I just respond, realising we were having a somewhat trivial conversation and one which I didn't have planned. He was good. Fifteen years old but he knew what he was doing. "...Will. We need to talk."

"I thought that's what we were doing?"

"No, I mean I've got something I need to talk about. And it's not chocolate bars." I say firmly, which causes him to shift his glasses up his nose. What possessed me to go out with him in the first place? He was so far from my 'type'. We couldn't be more different. Maybe it was me trying to convince myself I didn't just have to fall for the bad boys, or apparently, bad girls. Maybe it was some mad crave of affection or to cover up the rumours about Carla and I, which granted, had calmed down since I started dating the class nerd. "I don't think we should... See each other anymore." I try to phrase it the same way I'd seen it in films or television shows, because it was the only experience I was going on.

"See each other?" He almost scoffs, as if this was some kind of joke. "I think it's a bit more than that Michelle, we're in a relationship."

"...It's a teenage fling." I narrow my eyes, trying to diffuse the fact he was insinuating we were some kind of seven year strong married couple. "It was never going to last."

"No. That's just what you're convincing yourself." He rubs a hand down my arm and I pull away, hating being patronised.

"Will. We're two completely different people-"

"Opposites attract." He points out casually and I fall silent again, tempted to get up and walk away now I'd said all that I needed to. "And you can't say you know that it's not going to last. I mean, look at Dick and Janet."

"...Who?"

"Dick and Janet!" He emphasises, studying the same blank expression on my face. It must be some famous television couple or celebrity pairing, but the names don't ring a bell to me. "My neighbours. Well, they live a few houses up. Nice garden."

"...And this is relevant because?" I try to stay calm and not flip out at the way he was acting. As if he wasn't the smartest kid in school. Oh he was, but I could see through the act.

"Because they were together when they were thirteen and fourteen. Still going strong now." He informs me, acting as if this was the most casual conversation ever. "Still not married, mind. See, I'd probably propose to you in about two, three years. You don't want to leave it fifteen like them, do you?"

"Two or three..." I trail off, trying not to stammer in shock. "Will? Are you not hearing what I'm saying? It's over." The silence is deafening around us, night darkening as the February evening draws in. The weather was warming gradually, preparing itself for March to hit. I'd have been grateful last year. It would have meant the start of the summer ahead; nights at the quarry, long days going for picnics with whatever I could find in the cupboards. A tin of peaches, a pot noodle and half a pack of of custard tarts.

"But... I thought you were going to be my first." It takes me a moment to figure out he is talking about sex, something we had very rarely discussed for the duration of our relationship. I had no desire to have any kind of intercourse with Will Chatterton, and I was pretty sure I never would. "We were going to be each other's firsts."

"Well... You'll find... Someone else." I avoid his eyes, trying to conceal the fact that I wasn't actually still a virgin. "Sex is overrated anyway."

"You don't know until you've tried it. Though I wouldn't have thought you'd have that opinion."

"...Why not?" I take slight offence to the probable assumption he had made purely based on the fact I was from the estate.

"Well you spend all your time with that slag, don't you?" He clicks his fingers in the air and I bite my tongue. "Carla. That's the one."

"Carla isn't a slag. Don't call her that."

"She gets around." He cocks his head to the side, shrugging uncaringly. "Everyone knows it."

"Yeah well I don't care what anyone knows or thinks." I snap, standing up abruptly. "She's my best friend so keep your opinions to yourself."

"Alright, calm down! You haven't even seen her for weeks."

"Maybe that's because I've been smothered by you!" I retaliate and he rolls his eyes, dismissing the statement. "And you know what? It's a good job I'm ending this now because we don't work, you're too intense. You'll find someone perfect for you and I'll find someone... For me."

"Well, we'll just see if our paths cross in the future." He stands up, pulling the chocolate bar from my grip. "I'll have that back and all then." He stuffs it back in his briefcase, composing himself. "Right well. Goodbye Michelle."

"...You'll see me in geography next week." I point out bluntly, but he's already started walking away. I shiver as I watch his silhouette slip off into the sunset. What a strange boy. I hoped our paths definitely didn't cross in the future.

 **XIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIX**

The flat was filled with cheering when I enter, mum and dad clearly having vacated the premises for Paul and his group of friends, who are watching the football match on the small box television he had recently purchased with his wages. Nobody else was allowed to watch it except him, despite putting it in the main room of the house.

"Paul?" I ask quietly over the shouting and he doesn't bat an eyelid. Throwing an arm around one of his mates and jeering at the screen. "Paul?" I call over louder and he groans, rolling his eyes as he looks at me.

"What? Go play in your room Michelle."

"I just broke up with Will." I tell him, wrinkling my nose as his mates slurp loudly on the drink in their lager cans.

"Who?" Paul responds, although half-heartedly as he stares at the screen excitedly again.

"Will, my boyfriend. Well, ex-boyfriend..." I trail off, realising I was wasting my breath. "Where's Liam?"

"Out." Is all he comes back with, balling his hand into a fist. "Come on Sterlin', pass it over. Pass it over."

"Thanks for your support." I snap, storming back down the corridor to my room. The door slams abruptly, and the fact Paul doesn't shout back to tell me off, just shows that he's shown no interest in me departing the room either. I'm suddenly in floods of tears, slipping down the wall by my bed, pulling me knees up to my chest. I'd never felt so lost and helpless. Abandoned. Confused. I was so confused about everything, with nobody to confide in. Sure, there were girls in my classes who would jump at the chance to be my friend. But they weren't Carla, nobody was, not by a long shot.

My cheeks are sore by the time I've finished crying, eventually having crawled into bed, wrapping the duvet around me as some kind of comfort. The door creaks open, and although I usually try to hide any emotion from my parents, I realise that right now, I'd be willing to take any reassurance going.

"Hi, it's me." Liam's voice is whispered over the darkness and I sit up, relief sweeping through me. "Paul said you were asking after me..." He clicks the light on to see the state of the streaked mascara down my cheeks, freezing body bundled into the duvet. "Hey, what's the matter?" Liam is instantly by my side, wrapping an arm around my shoulders comfortingly. Mum told me I should love my brothers equally. This is why I didn't. This is why I loved Liam so much more.

"I just... I..." I start to cry again, whimpering into his t-shirt as he rocks me gently. "I feel like I've lost so much... I feel really sad. Just... Sad. And lonely."

"Is this because of Carla?" He asks and I give a small shrug, not meeting his gaze. "Tell me what happened with you two."

"We just..." I do debate it for a moment, but even I couldn't figure out what was going on, or where to even start. "Fell out."

"It must be over something?"

"I think maybe... Will." I lie, realising it was a good cover, and perhaps partly the truth anyway. "And how much time I was spending with him... Not anymore though."

"Hey?" He strokes my hair back, clearing the tears off my cheeks when I settle slightly.

"I uh, I broke up with him earlier." I realise how petty it probably sounds to him. Some teenage drama that would all be resolved the following day. I half expect him to laugh and tell me to get a grip, but he doesn't, because Liam loves me and to see me upset makes him upset too. "...I just wasn't into it anymore, you know?"

"Can't say I'm not pleased. He wasn't my cup of tea." He mutters and I giggle softly, finally feeling humour flutter through me. I nestle my head into his shoulder, breathing in his comforting scent. "No, I'm sorry Chelle. But you deserve a lot better anyway. In fact, nobody deserves you. I wish I could keep you safe forever but you're growing up now, hey? And I hate to sound soppy, so tell me to shut up... But I'm proud of you."

"Shut up." I smile, teasing him and he laughs, nudging my arm playfully. "...Sometimes I wish I was a kid again."

"You still are to me. Even when you're thirty two, you'll still be my little sister. The one who still gets cake mix on their chin when they're trying to be discreet about licking the bowl."

"I love you." It feels so important to say it. My words full of meaning. I hadn't been able to say it much recently, and I feel like a massive weight is lifted when the admittance leaves my lips. "I'm glad you're back now."

"Well, mum and dad are out for the night. Paul's gone to be pub." Liam lists off, squeezing me gently. "So, I've brought you back a chippy tea."

"With gravy?" My eyes light up.

"What do you take me for?" He grins, helping me up out of bed. "Of course with gravy."

 **Carla**

"Carla can you grab me a size five of the burgundy stilettos? A customer's asking after them." My manager sticks her head around the door of the stockroom. "Teenage girl, dark hair, sat on the chairs in the middle."

"Yep." I dismiss her, leafing through the boxes and finding the one she was referring to. It didn't cross my mind until I actually see Michelle, that the reference given was related to her. "...This colour doesn't suit you."

"Maybe you could recommend one that does?" She fights back at me, a hint of desperation in her eyes and I hesitate before kneeling down, unloading the tissue from the box and avoiding her eye. "Carla, I miss you."

"I'm working, Chelle." I sigh to myself, plucking the shoe from the box and handing it to her, accidentally meeting her gaze. "You could have gone to another shop."

"I don't actually need any shoes." She admits and I roll my eyes, looking around the shop to check for my manager.

"Well it's a funny place to come then."

"I just told you, I miss you."

"And what am I supposed to do with that?" I hiss, putting the lid on the box again and diverting the conversation. "You know I earn commission for selling these? It's actually my job, not a playground. If my manager sees me talking I'm screwed."

"I'm just an interested customer." She folds her arms defiantly and I have to force the smile back that's tugging at my lips, plastering a disapproving look in its place. "Please, Carla. Look, we've done the whole big dramatic break thing. Can I just get you back now?"

"Chelle, we've been through this." I lower my head into my hands subtly. "It's for the best."

"Why? Why is it though?" Her voice rises a decibel and I squeeze my eyes shut, praying she wouldn't make a scene. "You can't tell me you haven't missed me either."

"Yes of course I have, Michelle, but for what reasons?" I point out and she thinks on it for a second, trying not to cross over the initial reason we even called our friendship off in the first place. "Look I've got to go... Just don't make a habit of doing this please. I need this job."

"...Sorry for wasting your time." I can easily hear the hurt in her tone, producing a few pound coins from her pocket and pressing them into my palm. "There's your commission."

"I'm not taking your pocket money!" I call after her, but she's already gone, probably in tears as soon as she's left the shop. I felt like crying myself, crying for an eternity, because every time I saw her I get a sharp pain in my heart. For what reason, I didn't know. But Michelle Connor had some kind of effect on me and I knew I had the same on her. That alone, emphasises that I could try pushing her away all I liked, but a voice in the back of my head knew it wouldn't work. I didn't form friendships like this with just anybody. Michelle was special, and stubborn, and if I knew one thing it was that she wouldn't let me cut her out easily.

 **XIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXXI**

I'm unsure as to what I was even dreaming about before it was interrupted. Maybe nothing. Can you sleep without dreaming? Can you dream without sleeping? Rob's voice snaps me from whatever was running through my mind anyway. A very light sleep, it was always the same. I could never reach the proper depths of sleep, because I always had one ear open for burglars or rapists or serial killers. I'd say nothing is too extreme for around these parts.

"Carla? Are you awake?" He sounds panicked, which is what refrains me from snapping at him angrily. I click the precariously bent lamp on from my bedside table, a dim glow flooding the room. The lamp shade fell off a long time ago, if it even ever had one on, and the bulb wasn't much use either.

"What?" I reach my hand out, noticing the stress woven into his face. "Is it mam? Is there someone here?"

"No it's Michelle." He stammers, pulling me up from my bed and a surge of anxiety washes through my body, immediately leaping up. "I just saw the ambulance, Liam said she's not conscious. She's being rushed to hospital Carla."


	12. Playing By The Rules

**Chapter 11: Playing By The Rules**

 _ **A/N: Just as a heads up, this is set a few weeks later than the Liam and Michelle conversation in the last chapter. It's a different night they're home alone. I'm trying to move things on a bit! Quite a few people telling me to sack off canon and just go down the 'Carchelle' route. Trust me, don't tempt me ;).**_

 **Carla**

"Liam?" I yell down the corridor, feet pounding against the floor, Rob racing along behind me. I'm sure the security would be straight on the case of two bedraggled looking tearaways chasing the corridors of the hospital. But they could put up as much fight as they liked. I was going nowhere. After desperately hammering down one of Lenny's cabs and grovelling for all I was worth with the few quid I had remaining from my wages, we had arrived as fast as we could. I was still dressed in a tatty night dress, one of mam's oversized cardigan's pulled around my shoulders, more holes than material.

Liam's head whips around at the sound of our voice, hands glued to his head, elbows raised in shock. Devastation? I hoped not. I wasn't religious but right now I was praying. "What are you doing here?"

"Where is she? What's going on?" I demand, Rob solidifying himself behind me as we come to a halt. "Rob saw the ambulance. Liam, please!"

"She uh... I don't know, I don't know." He starts shaking, fear crippling his expression, something I rarely saw on him. I glance around the room, no sign of any other family, he clearly hadn't had time to contact anyone. "Mum and dad are away for the weekend... I... God, we were just talking on the sofa and then... She just collapsed. I tried to wake her up, I was shaking her Carla... We haven't even got a phone I had to borrow a neighbours. She's not waking up Carla, she's not-" He begins to sob and I soften, pulling him forwards so he can cry against my shoulder. My eyes go wide. I felt physically sick. I could feel how much Liam was shaking, it was obvious to tell this wasn't just a misunderstanding.

"Where's uh... Where's Paul?" I ask after rocking him in my arms for about five minutes and he pulls back, dusting the tears off his cheeks. Any other time and he'd be mortified at crying in front of me. But this wasn't any other time.

"On his way... I phoned him after speaking to the ambulance." He tries to level his thoughts. "Carla... What if something happens to her..."

"It won't, she's strong. Ok? Nothing's gonna happen." I reassure him, before catching sight of a nurse leaving the room I was assuming she was in. "Oi! Michelle Connor. What's going on with her?"

"Carla, calm down." Rob tries to quieten me and I snap my head around.

"Do not tell me to calm down." I hiss, turning back to the rather terrified attention of the hospital staff. "She's in there. What's happening?"

"I uh, I don't know-"

"What do you mean you don't know?" I don't refrain from raising my voice, attracting the attention of anyone else in the waiting room. "You've just come out of there. You're telling me you put yourself through years of intense training to tell me you 'don't know'?"

"You'd be best talking to a doctor-"

"Right well, fetch us one then. Chop chop." I demand and she slinks off, keeping her head low. "Was she breathing?" I spin back around to face Liam, who is now slumped in a chair with his head in his hands. "Liam?"

"What? Are you a doctor now?"

"Was she breathing?"

"Yes! Yes she was!" He fires up, securing himself so close to me I can smell that same comforting scent that at any other time, I'd be relishing in being this close to his chest. "Anything else you want to add to your questionnaire?"

"Yes as it happens-"

"The Connors?" A doctor hesitantly interrupts our stand off, noticing how young the three of us are and peering around the room. "Got any adults with you?"

"My brother's on his way." Liam points somewhere up the hall. "Please just tell us what's going on."

"You all family?"

"Sister." I don't even need to think on it before offering the title to him. I'd had practice, and was knowingly an accomplished liar.

"Michelle is suffering from meningitis most likely caused by a bacterial infection." He informs us, reading off his clipboard. "We've got antibiotics going directly into her veins and she's being supplied with oxygen for the breathing difficulties."

"But she's ok? She's going to be ok, right?" I start to panic, my heart fluttering uncontrollably as I push the ideas of bad news out of my head. I couldn't survive without her. No way.

"We're monitoring her constantly. There's not much else we can feed back to you about her progress at the moment."

"Well you must have some idea!" Liam presses him, as the doctor glances between us. "Is it serious?"

"Meningitis is a serious illness, yes. If it wasn't caught sooner, it could have deteriorated into sepsis; blood poisoning."

"But it hasn't?"

"We've caught it at an early stage." He reassures me slightly and I hold back a sigh of relief. "We're doing everything we can. I'll be back in a bit to tell you how she is responding to treatment."

"Hey, see?" I go soft on Liam, raising a hand to his shoulder and he looks back at me, searching for comfort. "They've caught it at an early stage. That's down to you that is. It's all going to be fine Liam, I promise."

 **XIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIX**

"I'm gonna go grab a coffee." Liam checks the change in his palm as he pulls it from his jeans pocket. "Want anything?"

"No I'm fine." I offer him a smile, reaching forward for Michelle's hand where he has just let go. Rob had opted to go home after we had been told Michelle was resting and in recovery, so Paul, after a lot of persuasion, reluctantly offered to drop him back, leaving Liam and I to sit with Michelle while she slept. It's not long after Liam leaves, that a murmur escapes Michelle's lips. Typical, she was always early, very much opposite to me. She would wake up before the medical professionals had assumed. "Hey, it's me. You're ok." I whisper gently, letting her adjust hazily to her surroundings as her eyes groggily open. She stares straight ahead, brow furrowing for a moment before she pulls at the mask on her face. "Chelle. Michelle, hey, calm. You're safe." Upon hearing my words, her head tilts to face me, taking in my expression.

"Carla..." She murmurs drowsily and I nod, a small smile crossing my face. I squeeze her hand gently and she reaches out her spare hand, drip still woven into it, raising it to my cheek as if to check I was real. "What... Where's..."

"Hey, listen, you've had meningitis. Liam brought you in after you collapsed. But you're ok, everything's going to be ok." I reassure her softly and she calms at my words, studying my face. I push a piece of stray hair back behind her ear and she this time moves the oxygen mask off her face with more composure. Her eyelashes flutter closed sleepily for a second, content in my company despite the beep of machines. "How do you feel?"

"...Tired." She deciphers, smiling as I soothe her, combing my fingers through her hair. "...Don't leave me. Please."

"I'm not going to. Hey, I'm not going anywhere ever again. Ok?" I whisper, staring into her eyes in a comfortable silence. "I've been stupid, and I'm sorry. After tonight, I've been going out of my mind with worry. I can't lose you. Ever. I love you too much even if you do drive me insane and make me sick with worry."

"I'm sorry." She murmurs, looking genuinely apologetic and I shake my head, grazing the pad of my thumb along her cheekbone. Taking her in, how special she was, not taking a single element of her for granted after such a terrifying scare. I can't help smiling at how beautiful she was even when machines were coming in and out of her. "Carla..." She hesitates, the word merely escaping as a breath, and I swallow, leaning forwards to place a soft kiss against her forehead. Her eyes close at the contact, the sweet scent of her shampoo infiltrating my senses before pulling back slightly, only enough so she can meet my eyes. I pause very briefly, before checking the surroundings and planting another very gently onto her lips. They part the slightest bit, welcoming the embrace, letting me go as I pull back, deciding not to push anything. I didn't even know what it meant. Maybe it had just been a friendly gesture of desperate longing and appreciation that I still had her next to me. Maybe I was kidding myself. "I'm not going anywhere. Ok? We're done playing games now. It's me and you against the world, like it's always been."

 **Michelle**

"Don't you have exams to be revising for?" I arch an eyebrow from where I'm propped up against the pillow, although admittedly warming at her entrance. I stupidly felt excited to see her, despite putting up with her for almost ten years now. Maybe it was true about absence making the heart grow fonder.

"Has that medication sent you mad?" She grins, sitting down on the edge of my bed. It had been three days since I was admitted. Mum and dad had been tending to my bedside in floods of tears. Hammering on about how they should have been here and got the first train back. It had taken some persuasion to get them to leave me in peace for a while during Carla's visit. "How are you feeling?"

"You do have a heart in there, don't you?"

"For people I care about, yeah." She narrows her eyes at my joke. "Which is a total of about two, maybe three people at a push."

"Well I'm honoured." I reach for her hand, lacing our fingers together and she begins to scrabble in her bag with the other one. Producing an envelope and small wrapped present, my eyes light up in surprise. "What's this?"

"Well, I heard it's the done thing when a loved one is sick." She shrugs and I linger on the term she has used, wondering what she meant by it, but not pressing it further. "Just a good job you didn't end up getting me fired so I could afford it."

"You shouldn't be spending your wages on me." I sigh, touched as I take the card, beginning to open it.

 _Chelle,_

 _Get well soon. I've got no one to have fag breaks with at school and cabs are costing me a fortune. Stop being an inconvenience._

 _Love you,_

 _Carla xxx_

"...Wow, how thoughtful." I lace my tone with sarcasm and she very gently nudges me. "I'll fill up in a minute."

"Oi! You know I don't do soppy." Her expression withers, tapping the present and prompting me to open it, revealing the Mars bar she had wrapped inside. "Yeah uh, it's not much but I figured you'd hate the hospital food here because you're so fussy."

"At least it's not a Bounty." I laugh to myself and she looks confused, reminding me that I hadn't actually told her the ins and outs of my break up with Will. She had asked me briefly if I wanted him here, which spurred me to tell her I had ended it. She didn't seem very devastated, but tried to act sensible for me all the same. "Thank you." I sing quietly, opening it up and taking a bite, offering it out to her. We sit in a comfortable silence as we share it, handing her the wrapper once it was finished.

"What did your last slave die of?" She rolls her eyes, taking it all the same and throwing it elegantly to land in the bin by the door.

"Meningitis." I dare to joke and she taps my knee, pretending not to be amused. "Can you do something for me?"

"Ugh, what now? I'm not waiting on you forever."

"It's not anything like that! This is serious!" I insist and she falls silent, studying me worriedly. "Will you please turn up to your exams? Try your best at them?"

"Why?"

"Because I believe in you, and I know you can make something of yourself."

"...You know, when Mr Pepper gave me this chat, it meant nothing." She hesitates, meeting my eyes. "How do you make it mean so much?"

"Because I actually mean it, and I'm not just saying it for the school's reputation." I state sincerely and I see her expression soften. "And I won't be giving up on you as soon as you leave that last exam."

"Even if I fail?"

"Even if you fail." I affirm and she smiles, taking my hand again and squeezing it. "But... It doesn't mean you can't try?"

"...Ok." She responds and my eyes widen, mentally debating if she had actually said the word. "I'll try my hardest. I'll go to every exam and I'll try to answer as many questions as I can. For you."

"...My impact." I smile smugly to myself, reaching for the magazine and flipping it open. She giggles in response, watching me flick through the pages in silence for a second.

"I can't wait until you're home and I can lie with you." The words escape her mouth and I look up, noticing the sincerity of her expression. It had been a common habit of ours since we were kids, to share a bed at sleepovers and dream up fantasies, fall asleep so close together that it wouldn't matter if the dodgy heating went on the blink. But nowadays I never know the extent of such phrases.

"You can lie with me now." I shuffle up, realising I wanted nothing more than just closeness and affection from my best friend. I pat the bed next to me and she chews her lip, gazing around the room. "Oh no one's gonna care."

"Mm." She just shrugs, lying down next to me and nestling her head into my shoulder as we both study the magazine. Except we weren't studying the magazine.

"...Is that all you want to do? Lie with me?" I dare to ask, lowering my tone just in case and she doesn't respond for a moment. "When we get home, I mean."

"...We'll see." Is all she finalises, and I leave it at that, because I was so grateful just to have her back and I didn't want to ruin that again. Although she seemed pretty certain she was staying put. "I missed you though. I missed you so much."

"Softie." I turn my head so our noses accidentally nudge, warmth channelling through me as she pushes herself up the bed slightly, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and letting my head fall into her chest.

It probably wasn't allowed, but when did we ever play by the rules?


End file.
